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ROUND ROBIN 


OTHER VOLUMES IN THE 

“ LITTLE 

SCHOOLMATES” SERIES 

Edited by 

FLORENCE CONVERSE 

IN SUNNY SPAIN Katharine Lee Bates 

UNDER GREEK SKIES 

Julia D. Dragoumis 

A BOY IN EIRINN Padraic Colum 

THE LAIRD OF GLENTYRE 

Emma M. Green 

ELSBETH Margarethe M iiller 

GENEVIEVE Laura Spencer Portor 

KATRINKA: The Story of a Russian Child 

Helen E. Haskell 

TREASURE FLOWER: A Child of Japan 

Ruth Gaines 

THE VILLAGE SHIELD: A Story of Mexico 
Ruth Gaines and Georgia Willis Read 

A BOY OF BRUGES: A Story of Belgian 


Child Life Emile and Tita Cammaerts 

THE CART OF MANY COLORS: A Story 
of Italy Nannine La Villa Meiklejohn 


ARCHAG THE LITTLE ARMENIAN 
Translated from the French of 
Charles H. Schnapps 


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ROUND ROBIN 

BY 

ABBIE FARWELL BROWN 



America! America! 

God shed His grace on thee. 

And crown thy good with brotherhood 
From sea to shining sea! 

— ^Katharine Lee Bates 


NEW YORK 

E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

68 1 FIFTH AVENUE 



Cop)Tight, 1921 

By E. P. DUTTON & COMPANY 

All Rights Resorted 


OCT 27 1921 


Printed in the United States of America 


©CI.A627471 


TO 

IJatiea 

SEEfi OE TRUTH, SAYER OF BEAUTY, 


SOWER OF WISDOM 


God hath made of one blood dU nations 
of men to dwell on the face of the earth. 


CONTENTS 


CHAPTER page 

A Letter to the One Who Reads this Book xi 

I. The Golden Girl i 

II. The Round Robin Club 12 

III. Fairy Ring 21 

IV. Dick’s Clambake 39 

V. Midsummer Eve 65 

VI. The Patchwork Quilt 81 

VII. Sal Seguin 100 

VIII. Idlewild 115 

IX. Nelly Sackett’s Home 124 

X. A Real Hero 135 

XI. The Eagle’s Nest 146 

XII. Lost 162 

XIII. Another Side 176 

XIV. Costumes 184 

XV. Tante’s Birthday Party 199 

XVL Neighbors 218 

XVIL Mystery 228 

XVIII. Fire 243 

XIX. News 254 

XX. Law and Liberty 269 

XXL Cousins 279 

XXII. A Chip of the Old Block 292 

XXIII. A Beginning 306 

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LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 


It seemed empty Frontispiece 

Facing page 

“Look!” whispered Cicely 59 

But nothing answered 71 

Nancy clung close to the trunk 159 

A fairy creature — a gnome — a gypsy queen 207 

“Why it's sage” 263 


ix 












A Letter to the One Who Reads This 
Book 

Dear Schoolmate: 

This is a stay-at-home story, the only one 
in our series. We have been to Greece and 
Spain, to Russia, Germany, and France, to 
Belgium, to Japan, to Ireland and Mexico, to 
Armenia and Scotland and Italy. We played 
with the royal children in the palace of the 
Tsar, before their great tragedy touched 
them; we went to school in Paris with Gene- 
vieve, and in Aintab with Archag, and out to 
domestic service with Mattina in Athens; we 
sang Spanish riddles with Pilarica, and lis- 
tened to Scottish hero-tales with the young 
Laird; we lived in a Mexican cave and sailed 
in a Japanese boat; we spent Christmas in 
Germany, before the War; we tramped the 
roads of Ireland with gay Finn, before the 
revolution; we followed Pieter when he 
fought for his Belgium; and we came home 

xi 


A LETTER 


xii 

from the Italian victory in a little Sicilian 
cart of many colors. And now we are going 
to stay at home and live as Americans live, 
and get acquainted with ourselves and each 
other. 

America is a palace of a thousand windows, 
some of them opening on the past and some 
of them looking toward the future; and in my 
letters to you I have tried to open a few of 
the windows that look back into our pasts; 
magic casements they are, for we have as 
many pasts as we have races in America. And 
two things I have tried to tell you about those 
races : 


Why they came to America 
and 

What they brought to America. 

Turn over the pages of the letters, if you 
have kept them, and you will find that they 
are really chapters in a short history of 
America’s colonists and immigrants. All the 
chapters are not written yet, all the windows 
are not opened; some day perhaps there will 


A LETTER 


xiii 

be a Scandinavian chapter to tell us why the 
hardy, industrious Norse and Swedes are here, 
farming our northwestern prairies, and what 
gifts they brought to make America more 
beautiful; and some day we may open a Dutch 
window, looking across the perilous sea from 
old New York to Holland. 

But this time, my letter is not a little chapter 
of past history, for most of the young people 
in this story are descendants of the Puritans 
who settled New England and the Cavaliers 
who settled Virginia; and we already know 
by heart those two chapters of our past. Don’t 
we? Plymouth Rock, Paul Revere, Poca- 
hontas : 


cargo of tea 
Thrown into the sea, 

In seventeen-hundred 
And sixty-three/* 

Those are the keys which unlock that magic 
casement. You can open it for yourself, any- 
time. The “Round Robin” window which 
I am opening in this letter, looks not into the 


XIV 


A LETTER 


past nor yet into the future, but into the 
present. It looks right into the hearts of 
American boys and girls of to-day. 

From the East and the West and the North 
and the South of our United States they come. 
Two or three, in the story, have fathers who 
were foreign born, but most of them arc of 
‘^American Stock,” as we say when we mean 
that our great-grandfathers and great-grand- 
mothers were the children of English colon- 
ists. We say it proudly, we whose ancestors 
fought the American Revolution, whose grand- 
fathers saw the passing of slavery, whose 
brothers did their bit in the Great War, 
Proudly, because we believe that whatsoever 
of freedom, of democracy, of holiness there 
is in America to-day, was first planted and 
rooted here by our ancestors, those first Eng- 
lish settlers. 

Narrow-minded and narrow-hearted peo- 
ple who look with near-sighted spirits through 
the windows of the past and the windows of 
the future, bewail the fact that one hundred 
years from now, ‘‘American Stock” will no 
longer mean to American Schoolchildren, 


A LETTER 


XV 


English inheritance. Because, dear School- 
mate, your children and your grandchildren 
will have married and intermarried with 
Americans of Latin and Teutonic and Slavic 
and other blood — with the American grand- 
children of Italians, and French, and Ger- 
mans, and Swedes, and Russians, and Syrians 
— and who knows how many other races? But 
these narrow-minded, narrow-hearted, un- 
visionary people forget that if our America 
is a free, a democratic, a holy place, one hun- 
dred years from now, the American Stock will 
still be rooted true in the old ideals. And 
it is by ideals that countries live and are 
judged. 

To Americanize a person means to find out 
how much, or how little, he knows and cares 
about freedom and democracy and holiness, 
and then to help that much or little grow. 
^And all this is done by making friends with 
the foreigners who come to us from other 
lands. Making friends with people, as you 
know very well, means understanding them, 
loving them, making allowance for them and 
remembering that they have to make allow- 


XVI 


A LETTER 


ance for us also. It means studying their 
ways, and especially their ways of achieving 
freedom, their ways of achieving democracy, 
their ways of achieving holiness — as well as 
expecting them to study and approve of our 
ways. Perhaps some of their ways are better 
than some of ours. If they are, then we shall 
certainly want to adopt those ways; if they 
are not, then we must do our American best 
to convince these immigrant friends that our 
ways are better. We mustn’t think that a way 
is bad just because it isn’t our way, and we 
mustn’t think a way is good just because it is 
our way. 

So you see that Americanizing people 
means much more than teaching them Eng- 
lish, and telling them about George Washing- 
ton and Abraham Lincoln, and showing them 
how to use bathtubs and ballot boxes. It 
means making sure that they know what free- 
dom means, and what democracy means (Do 
you know, dear Schoolmate?) and what holi- 
ness means; and that their hearts and souls 
are set toward making America a free, a 
democratic, a holy nation. 


A LETTER 


xvii 


Look into the hearts of the children in this 
Round Robin, and you will find growing there 
the old ideals whose names I am repeating 
so often in this letter, freedom, democracy, 
holiness; you will find them in the hearts of 
the young Americans whose fathers were 
foreign born (I’ll wait and let Miss Abbie 
Farwell Brown tell you which those are), as 
well as in Beverly’s courteous little Southern 
heart, and Nancy’s staunch little New Eng- 
land heart, and Dick’s jolly little wholesome 
heart of the West. The children in the story 
would be astonished if they knew that I was 
saying these things about them. They are just 
‘^a bunch” of honest, happy boys and girls, 
off on a typical American holiday in a sum- 
mer camp, learning to “get together.” But 
getting together is the A B C of freedom and 
democracy and holiness. 

It is the A B C of holiness because holiness 
is “getting together” with God: “Thou shalt 
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and 
with all thy soul, and with all thy mind.” And 
getting together with God means finding out 
God’s will and then doing it; working with 


XVlll 


A LETTER 


Him; building up the nation with Him. And 
the way to get together with God is by prayer; 
and by looking back through the ages and fol- 
lowing the working of His will in His world, 
as we see it in the Bible, and in all secular 
science, art, history, and literature; and then 
by more prayer. ^‘Thy Kingdom come, Thy 
Will be done, on earth, as it is in heaven.” 
That is the prayer of the nation builder, who 
has “got together” with God. And every 
American is a nation builder. 

It is the A B C of democracy because democ- 
racy is “getting together” with your fellow- 
men: “And thou shalt love thy neighbor as 
thyself.” Fellowship, brotherhood, equal op- 
portunity, all these come from loving thy 
neighbor as thyself. Government of the peo- 
ple, by the people, for the people, must fail 
just so long as we fail to love our neighbor 
as ourself. Democracy means loving all the 
people all the time; not just one kind of peo- 
ple, the rich, or the poor, or the bankers, or 
the bakers, or the people who live in our 
street, but all the people, all the time. In a 
Democracy, every man is our neighbor. 


A LETTER 


xbc 

It is the A B C of freedom, because freedom 
is ^^getting together” with the Golden Rule: 
*^Do unto others as you would that they should 
do unto you.” You can’t be free by yourself; 
not in America; not in the world. Even if 
you were a self-supporting hermit, or a Robin- 
son Crusoe, you wouldn’t be free. Solitude 
isn’t freedom. You wouldn’t be free to marry, 
alone on a desert island. A man is free when 
he is at peace with himself. But no man is 
really at peace with himself so long as some 
other man is not at peace. God made us so. 
Even if we are self-righteous and think that 
we are not to blame for our neighbor’s unhap- 
piness, we can’t be at peace while he is miser- 
able before our eyes and in our ears; but to 
have to run away from misery isn’t freedom. 
What does this mean, dear Schoolmate? 
Why! it means that you and I can never be 
free until everyone is free. It means that free- 
dom is a spiritual goal; but you don’t have 
to beat the other fellow to it; the game is to 
have everybody come up to time. And to have 
everybody come up to time, we must all play 


XX 


A LETTER 


the game according to the rule; be good 
sports! 

And now, you will tell me that these ideals 
are not merely American, they are the ideals 
for which every Christian nation ought to 
strive. That may be; but America has a 
special claim to them, for it was our English 
colonial ancestors who put them into political 
form for us, and breathed their spirit into this 
government of ours which we called a Repub- 
lic. We think that freedom, democracy, and 
holiness have a better chance to grow in our 
Republic than in the earlier forms of govern- 
ment, such as monarchy. Republics, such as 
ours, may not be the last word in political 
freedom, and democracy, and holiness; there 
may be newer forms of government in which 
people may have a better chance to be holy, 
democratic, and free than they have in ours; 
all history shows how men and governments 
have grown and changed, down the ages; to 
grow is to change. But so long as we do think 
that our ideals have a better chance in a Re- 
public than in anything else, we can keep our 
government a Republic; for it is we who 


A LETTER 


XXI 


choose what America shall be; it is we who 
cast the votes. That is what it means to be 
an American. 

And because freedom and holiness and 
democracy are the ideals for which every 
Christian nation ought to strive — and this the 
nations know, in their secret hearts, as well as 
you and I know it, dear Schoolmate — because 
their ideals and ours are really the same, we 
have, in those ideals, the basis and ground- 
work, and starting point for an international 
brotherhood of nations; the one sure way of 
getting together. 

Affectionately yours, 
Florence Converse. 






ROUND ROBIN 













ROUND ROBIN 


CHAPTER I 

THE GOLDEN GIRL 

S IX girls and a terrier puppy were wait- 
ing on the wharf at Old Harbor for the 
boat to come in. Of course there were 
many other persons gathered besides these; 
for the arrival of .the daily mail boat was the 
great event of the little Maine seaport But 
the six girls in their brown middies, flitting 
about like gay thrushes, seemed to take up 
most of the room on the little pier; to say noth- 
ing of the omnipresent pup. 

Although they were dressed almost exactly 
alike, and were of nearly the same age, they 
were as different as six girls could well be. 


2 


ROUND ROBIN 


One was tall and quiet, with a straight thick 
mane of fair hair. One was short, dark and 
round, and spoke with a quaint accent. One 
had a rich olive skin, great serious brown eyes, 
and a black braid thick as your arm. One 
was freckled like a meadow lily, with a snub 
nose and sandy curls. The fifth was a slender, 
dainty brunette with tiny hands and feet and 
a delightful Southern drawl. The last of the 
six had features like the tall, quiet girl. But 
she was sturdier and quicker. There was a 
ripple in her chestnut hair and a twinkle in 
her blue eyes that marked this Yankee from 
her English cousin. 

These two, arm in arm, were leaning over 
the railing of the pier, exchanging jokes with 
a big red-haired boy in a dory below, who 
was doing mysterious things with a landing 
net. 

‘^Ho! There, you’ve lost another one, 
Dick!” cried the lively girl of the watching 
pair. “A great cowboy you are, and can’t 
catch a crab!’ 

‘‘I’ll bet I could do it with a lasso, Nancy,” 
grinned the boy good-naturedly, “though the 


THE GOLDEN GIRL 


3 


critters do have nex’ to no necks.” Dick Reed 
was always making atrocious puns like this 
one, which the girls pretended not to notice. 
“I figured I’d get a nice mess for all our sup- 
pers. But — he glanced ruefully at the 
two small red objects sidling about the bot- 
tom of the dory, “I reckon I’ll have to make 
it a private donation to the newest comer; a 
sort of peace-offering. Say, do you suppose 
she will like ’em?” 

“Why shouldn’t she like them?” asked 
Cicely Vane, the English girl, in her clear 
soft tones. 

“Yes? Why shouldn’t she like them?” 
Nancy Batchelder repeated her cousin’s ques- 
tion in her more animated and penetrating 
voice. “I suppose she eats like the rest of us.” 

“Well, we’ll soon see,” said Dick, landing 
another crab dexterously. “There you are, 
old Sidestepper! And proud you ought to be 
to make a lunch for the Golden Girl.” 

“Hush, Dick!” cautioned Nancy, “Don’t 
let any stranger hear you call her that. It 
sounds so — so vulgar. You’ll forget some- 
time, and she will hear you.” 


4 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘^She’s got good ears if she can hear me 
now,” muttered Dick. 

“We used to call her that last summer,” 
Nancy whispered to her chum. “You know, 
she has lived here longer than any of us, 
really. But I don’t believe she knows the nice, 
dear corners of Old Harbor, or the nice, dear 
comfortable people as well as we do. She 
never went anywhere off her father’s place, 
they say, except to ride or drive or sail in 
his yacht. Though when she was a tiny little 
girl she used to run down to Cap’n Sackett’s 
often. That was before Nelly went there to 
live.” 

“Didn’t she come to see you at the camp?” 
queried Cicely, wondering at the inconsistent 
ways of these Americans, in a land where 
everyone was supposed to be “equal.” “I 
should have thought she would be lonesome 
in that big house.” 

“Dear me, no!” laughed Nancy. “She 
never even looked at us in those days. You 
ought to have seen her nose go up in the air 
when she passed us in the motor. She had 
girls and boys on house parties to visit her 


THE GOLDEN GIRL 


5 


sometimes. But they came from far away, 
and flocked by themselves. Mrs. Poole, her 
stepmother, is a dressy, snobby kind of woman. 
I’m glad my mother isn’t like that! The peo- 
ple here scarcely know her by sight. Nobody 
likes Mr. Poole, either. He is what they call 
a ^hard man,’ whatever that may mean.” 

‘Tn England it has something to do with 
money and not being kind,” said Cicely 
vaguely. don’t think I shall like this rich 
girl of yours, Nancy.” 

‘^Don’t call her miner* Nancy hastened to 
disclaim, with a little shake to her cousin’s 
shoulders. ‘T didn’t want her to come. No- 
body did. But as Mother said, what could 
you do, when Mr. Poole wrote so strangely, to 
say that he and Mrs. Poole were going sud- 
denly away with the baby, and that there 
would be no other place for them to leave 
Anne? Just imagine! He said Anne had al- 
ways spent her summers at Old Harbor; and 
now mightn’t she stay at Mother’s camp with 
us girls, to learn the simple life, which would 
be good for her!” 


6 


ROUND ROBIN 


“My wordP’ commented Cicely. “How 
odd! Was that all her father said?’’ 

“I think so. An3rway, you know Mother. 
After she had read that letter backward and 
forward — and upside down, for all I know — 
she sighed and said — Toor little Golden 
Girl! I don’t understand her father. But I 
guess we ought to have her here and be nice 
to her.’ ” 

“Dear Xante!” exclaimed Cicely. “She 
couldn’t help but be nice to anyone. But why 
did she call this Anne a ^poor’ little girl?” 

“I don’t know,” said Nancy. “I wonder.” 

Their wonderings were cut short by a cry 
from the other side of the pier. “Boat ahoy! 
Hi, Nancy!” 

It was a tall young man in a flannel shirt 
and knickerbockers who called out to his sister 
over the heads of the crowd. 

“Come on, girls!” summoned Nancy, who 
seemed to be their leader. And the little 
brown flock fluttered forward to the edge of 
the pier. “Now, when I say ‘One — two — 
three!' be ready with the yell. We’ll start her 
right with a rousing welcome, anyway.” 


THE GOLDEN GIRL 


7 


The little steamer was just rounding the 
point of the nearest island. Evidently there 
were not many persons on board. It was still 
early in the season and many of the summer 
cottages were as yet unopened. On the upper 
deck was standing just one person. As the boat 
drew near one could see that this was a girl 
in a fur stole, who seemed to be looking ear- 
nestly at the group on the wharf. 

“That must be Anne Poole,’’ said Nancy 
to her Club. And she whispered in Cicely’s 
ear — “I’m nervous! I don’t know why. She 
seems to me like a foreigner, though she’s not. 
But you didn’t, and you are!” 

The sentence sounded mixed. But Cicely 
seemed to understand and squeezed her 
cousin’s arm. These two were old friends as 
well as relatives. For though this was Cicely 
Vane’s first visit to America, Nancy Batchel- 
der had several times been to Cicely’s home 
in England, the country of Nancy’s own long- 
ago ancestors. 

''Q'elle est chicr murmured Gilda Be- 
temps. 


8 


ROUND ROBIN 


“But how pale!” added Norma, the dark 
girl. 

“I wish Mother would let me bob my hair,” 
thought Nancy, looking enviously at the new- 
comer’s boyish head. 

“What lovely clothes!” sighed the pretty 
Southerner, noting every detail of hat and 
coat and dainty shoes. “I can’t imagine her 
in this rig!” 

“She looks stiff and unhappy,” thought the 
English girl. What Nelly Sackett thought 
she did not say. Her lips were pursed to- 
gether and she eyed the Golden Girl with keen 
blue eyes. 

“Now, come on, girls! Go to it. Dough- 
boy!” Nancy admonished the puppy. “One 
two — threel'^ Six girlish voices, aided by a 
deeper masculine trio, burst into a wild yell. 
“Heia, hoia! Together! Get together!” 

^'Bow — wow — wowT barked Doughboy, 
quivering with enthusiasm. 

The girl on the steamer looked first sur- 
prised then interested, as she saw six handker- 
chiefs waved in her direction, while a little 
dog bounded frantically up and down like a 


THE GOLDEN GIRL 


9 


rubber ball. She had not expected a welcome 
like this. Though indeed she had not known 
what to expect, it was all so strange. A little 
color crept into her pale cheeks and she bowed 
her head slightly. 

^‘Some airs!’’ sniffed Dick Reed. Then he 
disappeared into the background, where 
Hugh and Victor were getting the motor boat 
ready for passengers. 

The little steamer picked her way gingerly 
to the pier. The gang plank was let down, 
and presently the Golden Girl was tripping 
ashore on high-heeled shoes. Nancy stepped 
forward with a well-meaning smile. ‘^You 
are Miss Anne Poole?” she said, “And I am 
Nancy Batchelder from Round Robin. I’m 
glad to welcome you. My mother was sorry 
not to be here, too. But she is busy getting 
luncheon ready.” Anne Poole stared. Her 
hostess was busy, getting her own luncheon! 
What a funny place! Then she glanced 
around with a start; for already the gang 
plank was hauled in and the steamer was 
about to move away. “Oh, my bags!” she 
cried. “Didn’t anyone bring them ashore?” 


10 


ROUND ROBIN 


“Three trunks have come volunteered 
Nancy, as who should say, — “Isn’t that enough 
for anybody?” 

“No, bags; two handbags besides. One has 
my jewelry in it. I left them on the seat. I 
thought someone would bring them.” Anne 
Poole stood helpless. 

The steamer’s bell rang. “Oh, Captain! 
Wait a minute! She’s left her bags!” Nancy 
called. Like a flash she jumped onto the 
steamer, over the railing, ran to the upper 
deck and soon reappeared with a big and a 
little bag, which the other girls helped her 
to hand ashore. Then once more she stood 
on the pier beside the astonished Anne, before 
either she or the Captain had recovered 
breath, or the steamer had got under way. 

“We have to help ourselves and move 
quickly, or we get left, you see,” said Nancy, 
laughing at the girl’s amazed expression. 

“I supposed there would be porters,” Anne 
repeated stiffly. “I never lift bags. But then, 
I never came to Old Harbor on the steamer 
before. Father always brought us down on 
the yacht.” 


THE GOLDEN GIRL 


11 


quite different when you come by 
steamer. You’ll find a lot of things different^ 
I guess,” grinned Nancy rather wickedly. 

suppose so,” remarked Anne, lifting her 
eyebrows with a bored expression. 


CHAPTER II 


THE ROUND ROBIN CLUB 

P eople were already drifting away 
from the pier. “Hugh and Victor are 
waiting to take us to Camp in the motor 
boat,” explained Nancy. “I’ll just introduce 
you to the Round Robin before we start. 
Don’t you think we have a nice yell? There 
are six of us, you see; you will make the 
seventh girl. The boys are Associates. Mother 
and the Twins are Honorary.” 

Nancy chattered so fast that the newcomer 
was quite bewildered. Perhaps it was the best 
way to get over an awkward moment, for the 
Club was oddly tongue-tied. They did not all 
know one another very well as yet, the sum- 
mer being so young. They were not awed by 
the Golden Girl; but they did not like the 
way she looked at them. “How queer these 
people are.” She seemed to be thinking. “I 
12 


THE ROUND ROBIN CLUB 


18 


knew they would be.’’ She said nothing, how- 
ever, and perhaps they mistook her real 
thoughts. 

Nancy began her introduction, putting her 
arm about Cicely’s shoulders. ^^This is my 
cousin Cicely Vane of England,” she said. 

“How do you do?” said Cicely prettily. 
Anne nodded coldly as the name of each girl 
was given. 

“This is Gilda Betemps, who was born in 
Belgium,” went on Nancy, drawing forward 
the short, round girl whose pleasant face was 
beaming. “She doesn’t speak English very 
easily yet. But she is getting on. She is going 
to be an American all the rest of her life.” 

“I gave some money for the Belgian chil- 
dren, and a lot of old clothes,” said Anne, 
staring at Gilda with some interest. “What 
a dreadful thing to say!” inwardly commented 
the other girls. But Gilda only smiled. 

“And this,” Nancy indicated the brunette 
of the group, “is Norma Sonnino, who is going 
to be a great musician some day, like her 
grandfather. She sings like a — like a round 
robin I” 


14 


ROUND ROBIN 


Norma blushed and rolled her eyes. 
‘‘Nancy is always laughing at me,” she said, 
showing dazzling white teeth. “Like a round 
robin indeed !” 

“Well, I don’t know anybody who Can sing 
better than the round robin we named our 
‘ camp for; the fellow who sings on top of the 
spruce tree every morning — 'Get up, get up! 
Get uppity up!' And his sunset song, Norma!” 

"Grazie tante!" said Norma, shrugging her 
shoulders, but smiling too. 

“Another foreigner!” thought Anne Poole. 
“That makes three of them already. What 
an odd group for me!" And her little nose 
rose higher in the air. 

Norma was not a foreigner. Her people 
had not lived in America so long as had the 
people of Nancy or Beverly or Nelly Sackett. 
But Norma was just as truly an American as 
they; since her Italian-born father was now a 
naturalized citizen, a merchant in New York 
where she herself had been born. 

“I am Beverly Peyton, of Virginia,” 
drawled the pretty Southerner, waiting for 
no introduction and holding out her hand 


THE ROUND ROBIN CLUB 


15 


cordially. Beverly had not forgotten how 
cold the first greeting of these Northern girls 
had seemed to her warm Southern heart, when 
a week earlier she had arrived, a stranger to 
all but the Batchelders. She knew that they 
were not really cold; it was just the Yankee 
offhand way. But she wanted to cheer up 
this pale, big-eyed newcomer. 

Anne, however, did not seem to appreciate 
Beverly’s advance. She dropped the warm 
little hand as soon as convenient, and stood 
staring at the last of the six girls — the freckled, 
sandy one. 

know you,” she said. ^^You’re Captain 
Sackett’s niece. I used to call him ^Uncle 
Eph’ once. Are you a member of this Club, 
too?” There was something in the way she 
said it that made Nelly Sackett flush and draw 
back the hand she had half extended, follow- 
ing Beverly’s lead. 

^^Of course she is a member of the Round 
Robin,” said Nancy, clapping Nelly on the 
shoulder in a boyish fashion. “We couldn’t 
do without Nelly, though she doesn’t live at 


16 


ROUND ROBIN 


Camp. She lives at Cap’n Sackett’s, a mile 
and a half away.” 

‘‘The idea of a fisherman’s daughter in my 
Club!” thought Anne Poole. “Well!” Just 
then a whoop rent the air and the cry — 
“Hurry up, girls!” 

“The boys are getting impatient,” Nancy 
explained to Anne. “They’re always in a 
hurry. Your trunks are in the motor-boat 
already; three of them! I guess the boys 
didn’t bargain for more than one. We shall 
be pretty crowded. But we shan’t mind, if 
you don’t.” 

Anne had seen two roughly-dressed young 
men struggling with her boxes, while a red- 
haired boy walked away with her suit-case. 
She had supposed them to be porters. What 
was her amazement to learn they were to be 
her neighbors and camp companions in this 
strange summer. For the bronze young man 
wearing the service star was Hugh Batchelder, 
it seemed. And his taller friend with the 
silver star of a wounded veteran was Victor 
Lanfranc, late of the French Flying Corps. 
While the funny Dick Reed, whom they 


THE ROUND ROBIN CLUB 


17 


called “Reddy,” and who shook Anne’s arm 
up and down like a pump handle, when he 
was introduced, much to her disgust, was 
being tutored by Hugh Batchelder at his 
mother’s camp. 

Presently the Togo full of girls and boys 
and trunks and puppy, all comfortably min- 
gled, was chugging away over the blue waters 
of the Harbor into a wild, beautiful section 
of the “country of the pointed firs.” The air 
was pungent with the smell of balsam and bay 
and sweet fern, mingled with a salty fragrance 
that is the breath of life to true Yankees, and 
which even Beverly Peyton’s aristocratic little 
Southern nose was beginning to love. Perched 
awkardly on one of her own trunks, Anne 
Poole scanned the rocky shore eagerly, as they 
approached a high point. 

“I suppose of course you know all about 
this coast?” said Nancy, trying to make con- 
versation. “You used to sail around so much. 
We often saw your father’s yacht last sum- 
mer.” 

Anne sighed. “I shall miss that,” she said. 

“Hugh has looked up all the places around 


18 


ROUND ROBIN 


here,” Nancy went on. “The Bay is full of 
history ” 

“And fish,” interrupted Dick, below his 
breath. 

“I don’t know about the history,” said Anne, 
“But I think I do know that Point. I never 
came just this way before. But isn’t that Idle- 
wild?” 

“Yes. That is Idlewild. And here is where 
Nelly gets off.” They were at the entrance 
of a little cove, at the end of which a good- 
sized white house stood alone. On the shore 
were some low grey sheds; lobster pots lay 
about and a dory was moored a little way 
from shore. The Togo drew up at the tiny 
pier and Nelly Sackett jumped nimbly out 

“Good-bye, Nelly! Don’t forget to-mor- 
row,” called Nancy. 

“It’s not likely I’ll forget!” grinned Nelly 
Sackett 

“And please, ask Cap’n Sackett about the 
lobsters?” Nancy reminded her. 

“He’ll have them ready,” promised Nelly. 
“He’s going hauling, I know, to-morrow. 


THE ROUND ROBIN CLUB 


19 


He’ll be back by ten. The lobsters will be 
ready.” 

**Good-bye, Nelly! Good-bye!” 

“Heia! Hoia! Together! Get together!” 
yelled the Club as the boat chugged away; 
the same call with which they had greeted 
Anne. The latter did not join in the yell. 
It was too strange to her. 

^‘Here we come to Idlewild!” As the boat 
drew near the Point they could see a great 
stone house on top of a cliff; a garage, summer 
houses, and the glass roofs of greenhouses. 
But there was no flag flying on the tall flag- 
staff above the boat house. The place seemed 
deserted. Every window was shuttered, giv- 
ing the house the look of a blind person. 
There were no boats moored off the little pier. 

“How dead it looks!” thought Anne. But 
she said aloud complacently — “It’s the finest 
place anywhere within firty miles; Father 
says so.” 

“It certainly is the biggest place,” agreed 
Nancy. “But wait till you see Round Robin !” 

“I wish I was going to be here,” said Anne 
simply; and Beverly Peyton saw her lip 


20 


ROUND ROBIN 


tremble. “I never went anywhere else in the 
summer, except when we went to Europe. I 
liked Idlewild.’’ Anne could not say any more. 

“We will come over and see it some day, 
Anne,” sad Beverly sweetly. “It is only about 
a mile from Camp, they say. IVe wanted to 
come very much.” 

“So have I,” said Nancy. “In all the years 
IVe never been on shore here. We’ll all go, 
if you will invite us, Anne.” 

Anne did not say anything. She was watch- 
ing the roofs of Idlewild fade out of sight, 
and she looked wistful. 

The others were already planning for to- 
morrow and seemed to have forgotten the new- 
comer. 


CHAPTER III 


FAIRY RING 

A CROSS a smooth stretch of bay dotted 
j \ with tiny islets, past cliffs with great 
black fissures in the side; through a 
narrow channel between grim reefs and the 
ragged shore, went the Togo. Never a house 
did they pass. Never another boat did they 
meet. For Round Robin was hidden in an 
entirely wild part of the shore, too far from 
Old Harbor to suit most city people. The 
branch road ended at the Batchelders’ place. 
Beyond was wilderness. It was this very 
wildness that the Batchelders and their 
friends liked most; and because of it they had 
chosen this spot for their summer camp. 

“Of course you know this Bay was once a 
great place for Indians?” said Dick, who came 
from an Indian-frequented part of the coun- 
try. But Anne knew nothing of Indians and 
21 


22 


ROUND ROBIN 


their history. “They had a village somewhere 
along here, Hugh says ; Hugh is great on his- 
tory. And out on that island away off there,” 
Reddy pointed into the misty east, “there was 
a terrible massacre once.” 

Anne looked shocked. “There was a ship- 
wreck on that reef,” volunteered Nancy, in- 
dicating a row of brown teeth piercing 
through foam. 

“Better than that,” called out Hugh from 
the tiller, “did you girls know that this was 
the scene of a big sea-fight during the Revolu- 
tion? One of my ancestors, who was master 
of a little fishing schooner, decoyed a British 
man-of-war right on to that shoal over there, 
and took him prisoner.” 

“It’s not polite of you to mention it in 
Cicely’s presence,” laughed Nancy. “You 
might hurt her feelings.” 

“Dear me, no!” protested Cicely. ‘We 
have forgotten all the grudges of those days, 
haven’t we? Our countries are just allies, 
aren’t they?” 

“Of course they are!” said Hugh saluting 
like a soldier. 


FAIRY RING 


23 


“Sure we are!” cried Victor doing likewise. 
^‘Ask France, too!” 

“Look, Anne!” interrupted Dick, “that 
island out there is where Captain Kidd is said 
to have hidden his treasure. Maybe we shall 
find it this summer, who knows?” 

“Pooh! They tell that same story about 
every island off the coast.” Nancy snubbed 
him. 

“Well, he did hide it somewhere, didn’t 
he?” insisted Dick. “And nobody has ever 
found it yet? So!” 

“This is the place where Gilda fell over- 
board while we were fishing yesterday.” 
Norma pointed out the place. 

“Ze wasser was ve’y damp !” Gilda shrugged 
with a little frown. And they all began to 
laugh, even Anne, at the funny expression. 

“And here’s where we go in bathing,” said 
Beverly, showing Anne a little sandy beach as 
they passed. “It is cold, oh, so cold! But 
it is fun, when you get used to it.” 

“We had a heated pool at Idlewild,” said 
Anne dubiously. “I don’t like bathing in 
cold sea-water.” 


24 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘^It’s the way we take our daily baths,” said 
Nancy. “There isn’t any running water at 
the camp, you know. There’s just the spring 
outside the kitchen. We have to bring in 
what we want in buckets, the way the first set- 
tlers did. Oh, it’s quite primitive, Anne!” 

“No bathrooms then? No electric lights, 
I suppose?” Everybody began to laugh. 
Dick fished something from his pocket and 
flashed a torch in Anne’s face. “Of course we 
have electricity,” he said. “Everybody is his 
own firefly.” 

Anne looked more and more pained at these 
revelations. They were approaching a point 
dark with fir trees, that made out into the 
water beside a tiny cove. There was a strip 
of pebbly beach, with a landing pier, from 
the end of which a path went wavering up 
the bank and disappeared into the woods. 
Anne caught a glimpse, through the trees, of 
a low log shack, and some brown canvas 
tents that seemed to blend in like a part of 
the woods. 

“Here we are! Let’s give the camp yell,” 
suggested Nancy. And once again the new- 


FAIRY RING 


25 


comer’s ears were deafened by the strange cry, 
“Heia! Hoia! Together! Round Robin!” 

There was a high answering call; and down 
the slip came hurrying a tall, sweet-faced 
woman in a blue dress and big apron, fol- 
lowed by two little capering boys. The ter- 
rier pup could not wait another minute, but 
leaped out of the boat and ran to greet the 
children, barking noisily as if trying to tell 
them about his wonderful trip to the Harbor 
to meet the Stranger. 

The woman, whom everyone called “Tante,” 
came straight to Anne and took her cordially 
by both hands. “Welcome to Round Robin, 
Anne,” she said. “I am very glad to see you. 
These are my Twins, Eddie and Freddie. 
Shake hands, boys.” 

The Twins stared at Anne with unfeigned 
interest. “Yes, her hair is a sort of gold — ” 
began Freddie. But Dick interrupted further 
comment on the Golden Girl by grabbing him 
up bodily and racing off, followed by Eddie 
and Doughboy in a tandem. 

“I hope you will like our camp. Dear,” said 
Mrs. Batchelder, as they followed the girls 


26 


ROUND ROBIN 


up the path, leaving the young men to bring 
the luggage. “We have very happy times 
here together. Though you have never 
camped before, you will soon get used to the 
queerness, I am sure.’’ 

There was something so motherly and kind 
in her manner that a lump came in Anne’s 
throat. She turned abruptly, in what seemed 
a sulky way, and said nothing. 

“I t’ink s’e is not pleasant, non?"' whispered 
Gilda to Norma. And the latter shrugged 
her shoulders. “I’m glad she is not my tent- 
mate,” she remarked. “But Beverly can get 
along with her, if anyone can.” 

The pretty path led to a quaint cabin made 
of rough logs, such as the Pilgrims built in 
Plymouth when they first landed. There was 
a broad piazza, however, which those busy 
Pilgrims would have had no time to enjoy. 
On it were Gloucester hammocks, rough- 
finished chairs, and a table which Dick had 
made. “This is Round Robin,” said Tante, 
“where we meet to eat and work and dance 
and spend rainy hours. A real round robin 
himself has a nest in the top of that spruce 


FAIRY RING 


27 


tree. And the Twins and I have our nests 
upstairs. But I am sure you will like sleeping 
in a tent, Anne. The boys have pitched their 
tents down that path about fifty rods away, 
beside their favorite swimming place. That 
is where Dick does his studying every morn- 
ing. Now, Beverly, I will turn Anne over 
to your Southern hospitality. You will make 
her feel at home as soon as possible, I know.” 

The other girls had already disappeared on 
various errands. ‘‘This way to the Fairy 
Ring!” drawled Beverly, with her pretty 
smile. “That is what Nancy calls our tent 
circle. They do look rather like brown mush- 
rooms, don’t they? Do you-all like mush- 
rooms? We are beginning to find lovely ones 
in the woods.” 

“Toadstools!” Anne exclaimed in disgust. 
“I’m afraid of the nasty things. Of course, 
I like the ones we get in the city,” she quali- 
fied, remembering. 

“Wild ones are best,” declared Beverly. 
“You’ll learn to know the difference. But 
don’t be fooled by the rich-looking Amanita. 


28 


ROUND ROBIN 


It’s deadly! Well, here’s our mushroom — 
not too much-room, as Reddy says.” 

They stood at the entrance to one of the 
little brown tents. Anne stared. ^^Goodness 1” 
she said. ^‘And I shall have only half of 
that?” 

Two narrow cots stood against the sides of 
the tent; a small mirror hung from the post 
between them at the farther end, over a rough 
box that seemed to serve for a dressing table. 
There were, besides Beverly’s steamer trunk 
already in place, two camp stools, and a 
clothes-line stretched across the tent, on which 
dangled certain girlish garments. That was 
all. What a contrast to the dainty boudoir 
Anne had left behind in Chicago! 

“I keep things that mustn’t get damp inside 
my bed,” said Beverly demurely. ‘T don’t 
know what Tante would say. She is so tidy. 
Your trunk will go there, opposite mine.” 

“I have three trunks,” answered Anne sulk- 
ily. “I don’t see where they can go.” 

Beverly laughed. ^‘All full of clothes?” 
Anne nodded. “Well, you’ll never want them 
here, I reckon,” drawled the Southern girl. 


FAIRY RING 


29 


^‘You’ll keep them in the store-room, and be 
glad to get rid of them. You will never need 
to wear anything but this — in Camp, at least.” 
She glanced down at her khaki costume. Anne 
sniffed. 

“I never shall like it,” she said. “It’s so 
coarse and ugly.” 

“I never shall like it,” she repeated in a 
letter to her father which she hastened to 
write that same afternoon, while she was sup- 
posed to be resting. (She did not write to 
her stepmother.) “Please don't make me stay 
in this old camp!” Anne continued in her 
letter. “Mrs. Batchelder is lovely and kind. 
But she does the cooking herself! And we 
are all expected to help, taking turns at every- 
thing! And we have to take care of our tents, 
and sweep, and wait on table! Imagine it! 
There aren’t any servants; and they say il Is 
the way the first settlers in America lived, only 
easier. I think it’s horrid! Please can’t I 
come to Canada, or wherever you are? I can 
keep out of the way, if you’re busy. And I 
won’t bother the baby.” 

When Anne had finished her complaining 


30 


ROUND ROBIN 


letter she sat looking out of the tent into the 
trees, feeling very lonely. The Camp was 
silent, for it was the hour when those who 
wished to do so took their daily nap; while 
the others were expected to study or to keep 
quiet or to go away where they could be noisy 
without disturbing anyone else. Even the 
irrepressible Twins and Doughboy were in- 
visible. Victor had taken them off on a small 
hike. Beverly had left Anne in undisputed 
possession of the tent. She and Cicely were 
going to pick v/ild strawberries for supper. 

“I wonder what they are doing in Canada 
now?” thought Anne wistfully. “I wonder 
why Father wouldn’t let me come with them? 
It must have been Mother’s idea.” Ever 
since the baby came Mrs. Poole had acted 
oddly. But so had Mr. Poole. He had been 
different for a long time. There was some- 
thing Anne didn’t understand, and it made her 
uncomfortable. Now they had sent her to 
this camp of strangers. It was very hard! 
Tears began to gather in her eyes, as Anne 
pitied herself. 

Just then she became aware of a commotion 


FAIRY RING 


31 


in the trees outside the tent. The birds were 
screaming and complaining wildly; especially 
one father robin, who seemed to be having 
a fit of hysterics. “That must be the Round 
Robin for whom the camp is named,” thought 
Anne. “What a racket! You are so near the 
birds and things in this old camp that you can’t 
get away from their troubles.” 

'What/ What — ^what — what!” shrieked the 
old robin, still more anxiously, and Anne saw 
him flying back and forth about a certain tall 
cedar. Then the tree itself began to shake. 
The top was moving as if it were alive, thrash- 
ing back and forth strangely. 

“What can it be?” thought Anne, laying 
down her pen and running outside. There 
was certainly something up in the tree; some- 
thing alive. She caught the glitter of two 
yellow eyes peering down at her. “It is an 
animal!” thought Anne, and for a moment 
her heart stood still. She was alone in camp 
for all she knew. And Hugh had told that 
noon how he had seen a wildcat in the woods 
last summer. Wildcats were dangerous beasts, 
sometimes. What should she do? This crea- 


32 


ROUND ROBIN 


ture was certainly furry, but it looked white. 
Weren’t wildcats always grey? 

The creature was coming down! A great 
white cat-like thing, with a thick ruff around 
its neck, a tail like a feather plume, fur stand- 
ing on end, and long, fierce whiskers. The 
robin kept up a ceaseless protest. Evidently 
he at least had reason to be afraid. Anne 
stood rooted to the spot with fear, while the 
animal descended. It gave a leap to the 
ground and came bounding straight towards 
her. 

''Purrr it cried. ^'Purr-miaouF^ “Oh, 
what is it?” Anne whispered aloud to the air. 
But she stood her ground. 

“Patsy! Patsy!” called a voice, and out of 
the bungalow ran Nancy. “You naughty cat! 
Are you bothering the birds again?” 

“Is it only a cat?” asked Anne staring. 
“Why, it looks like a wild beast!” 

“Patsy is an honest- to-goodness cat,” Nancy 
assured her proudly. “But our darling Patsy 
will chase the birds. We do the best we can. 
We keep him indoors at night. He has never 
been away from home one single night in all 


FAIRY RING 


33 


his little life, Anne, and we don’t let him out 
till after he has been fed in the morning. But 
he will prowl for birds. Naughty Patsy, to 
wake up our new guest, too!” 

‘‘I wasn’t asleep,” said Anne simply. Patsy 
capered across the path and flung himself 
head foremost at the girls’ feet, rolling over 
in the most engaging fashion, snowy paws in 
the air. ^What a beauty!” cried Anne. “I 
love Persian cats. They are so rare. He must 
be very valuable.” 

‘^He isn’t rare, and he isn’t a foreigner. He 
is a Maine ^shag cat,’ born right here in the 
Harbor,” declared Nancy. “There are more 
‘shags’ than ‘snug-haired cats,’ as the people 
call them around here. But we like our kit- 
ties well done, instead of rare, don’t we, Patsy? 
He likes you, Anne.” 

Sure enough. Patsy gave a winsome little 
purr and ran up to Anne’s outstretched hand, 
as if to welcome the newcomer, and rubbed 
against her knee. 

“You are a darling!” cried Anne, picking 
up the roly-poly fellow, who wasn’t so very 
big after all, being mostly fluff, like an ice- 


34 


ROUND ROBIN 


cream soda. Patsy licked her cheek with his 
pink tongue. And Anne smiled. It was the 
first time Nancy had seen her smile, and she 
thought how pretty Anne could be. 

‘^He is a fairy cat,” announced Nancy. 
“White cats are always fairies, you know. 
Look out he doesn’t bewitch you, Anne!” 

“Nonsense!” cried Anne, turning up her 
nose at the words, but stroking Patsy’s fur 
very gently indeed. She thought Nancy talked 
in a very silly way about fairy-tales, almost 
as if she really believed them. She did not 
yet know that Nancy loved better than any- 
thing else to write fairy-tales herself. And 
if you do a thing like that, you must at least 
pretend to believe in it. 

Already Patsy had made Anne feel that she 
had a four-footed friend at camp — ^which may 
or may not have been bewitchment. Anyway, 
she scribbled a postscript to the letter which 
she had been writing : 

“P.S. Patsy is the most beautiful cat I ever 
saw; fine as the one who took the prize in the 
last cat show, you remember? Only this one 
is white. I am going to see if I can’t buy him 


FAIRY RING 


35 


of Nancy Batchelder and bring him home 
with me when I leave this old camp. I am 
sure it will be the only thing I shall want to 
bring awayP’ 

However, this complaining letter of Anne’s 
was never sent. It remained in her pocket 
until it graduated from there into the fire- 
place at Round Robin. For it is a mistake 
to record your impressions of any place until 
you have spent at least one whole day and one 
entire evening there. 

That first evening after supper, it being 
warm and dry, with a young June moon, the 
Round Robin gathered on the piazza; all but 
Hugh and Victor who had taken the canoe 
and had gone out on the water for a little. 
Perched on the piazza railing, snuggled in 
the Gloucester hammocks, curled on the grass 
mats, the Club purred like contented kittens 
after a good supper. First they played ‘T’m 
thinking of something.” But afterward they 
voted that the night was too beautiful for any 
game. Down in the pasture the fireflies were 
flickering. Sweet odors came from trees and 
grass and water; and sweet sounds. Now and 


36 


ROUND ROBIN 


again a little bird chirped away up in a tree- 
top, as if his happy long day was being con- 
tinued into a nice dream. The sea itself was 
crooning a gentle tune. 

“Sing, Norma!” begged somebody. And 
though there was no piano or other accom- 
paniment than the noises of out-doors, Norma 
was willing enough. She had a beautiful 
voice, full and rich and mellow for a very 
young girl, and she loved to sing. She began 
with quaint melodies in Italian, new and 
lovely things which the others had never 
heard, and could not wholly understand. Her 
voice seemed to melt into the night like 
the wind and water. Then Norma sang old 
songs in English which they all knew, and 
in which they all joined, a jolly little chorus. 
Anne sang as loudly as anybody, there in the 
dark corner where nobody could see. 

Presently the sound of music came from the 
ocean too, where they could just spy the red 
canoe gliding by in the moonlight. 

Allans, Citoyens! Formez vos bataillonsF^ 
Victor’s pure tenor rose in the stirring strains 
of the Marseillaise, Hugh joining in with a 


FAIRY RING 


37 


Sturdy baritone. The June wind brought the 
sound of the young veterans’ voices sweetly, 
and Xante’s eyes were moist, as she thought 
gratefully of what might have been. Instead, 
those soldier-voices might now be breathing 
up through the grasses of that land whose very 
flowers seem to sing the chant of liberty. No! 
There must be no more war! 

Then Round Robin sang America with vim. 
Anne noticed that there were at least two sets 
of words being sung to the same melody. It 
is not wholly accident that makes this old tune 
the hymn of several great nations. 

“Hooray!” shouted voices from the shore 
in response to America; and then the echoes 
woke to a rattling college yell. Hugh and 
Victor were coming up the path, and Dough- 
boy scuttled barking to meet them. 

“Well, it must be time for bed,” said Xante 
presently. “I suspect Anne Poole has found 
this a pretty long day, and is quite ready for 
sleep?” 

“It has been a nice day,” said Anne simply. 
It might not be so bad at Round Robin, after 


38 


ROUND ROBIN 


all, she thought, crumpling up the letter in 
her pocket. 

One more song they sang all together before 
they separated — their favorite song of all they 
knew — America the Beautiful/^ 

America! America! 

God shed His grace on thee, 

And crown thy good with brotherhood, 
From sea to shining seaF* 

The voices rang out lustily as the campers 
strolled away to their various tents. And the 
last word Anne heard before she swiftly 
dropped off to sleep in her snug cot was 
Americar coming clearly and softly from 
the tent where the young ex-soldiers lay. 


CHAPTER IV 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 

ANNE was awakened at what seemed an 
unearthly hour by the sound of a bugle. 
can't get 'em up! I can't get 'em 
up in the morning!" Several merry voices 
seemed to be singing the words which Anne 
had never heard before. 

At first she did not know where she was. 
For in spite of the hard little narrow bed she 
had slept like a top. The brown tent over her 
head, the spicy air coming in at the open door, 
the song of birds close by, and their flying 
silhouettes on the canvas made the queerest 
ending to her dream of home. But presently 
she heard a groan from the cot opposite hers, 
and remembered that she had a tent-mate. 

‘Time to get up!” Norma’s warning voice 
sounded musically outside, as she passed on 
her way to the kitchen. 

39 


40 


ROUND ROBIN 


disgusting to be wakened so early!” 
moaned Beverly, rubbing her eyes. wonder 
if I shall ever get used to it.” 

Anne looked at her wrist-watch. “Seven 1 
At home I never get up till eight,” she com- 
plained. 

“Neither do I,” Beverly yawned. “But 
here some of us have to help get breakfast, 
you know. And it^s all cleared away by nine! 
You and I are on the dish-washing squad this 
week, I reckon. So we have a few minutes’ 
grace.” 

“I never washed a dish in my life,” said 
Anne peevishly. She was now wide awake. 

“It isn’t so bad when you do it together,” 
said Beverly, sitting up. “We have jolly 
times in the out-door pantry.” 

The woods were ringing with laughter and 
shouts. Evidently the Twins were already up 
and doing, and Doughboy was helping them. 
A clear tenor was singing '^There's a long, 
long trail,^* to the accompaniment of a wood- 
chopper’s axe. It was part of the boys’ job 
to see that the wood-boxes were kept full and 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


41 


the fires laid, and they usually elected to do 
most of such chores before breakfast. 

Anne had just time to get into the brown 
middy costume like those the other girls wore, 
which Tante had asked her to bring. She had 
never put on anything like it before, and she 
hated the material and color. But really she 
looked very nice in the woodsy brown, with 
her fair skin and bobbed hair. 

“You look more like a Dryad than any of 
us,” said Nancy approvingly when Anne ap- 
peared for breakfast. And though Anne 
wasn’t quite sure what a Dryad was, she 
thought by Nancy’s tone that it must be a 
nice sort of creature, and was pleased. 

“It is queer how this brown makes you feel 
like a part of the woods; doesn’t it?” she said. 

“Now you are a Round Robin!” said Tante, 
greeting her with a smile. 

Breakfast was served on the veranda this 
beautiful morning, instead of in the living 
room where they had supped. The long board 
on trestles, such as the pioneers used, was set 
with plates and cups of granite ware; twelve 
places, the sacred number. Tante poured the 


ROUND ROBIN 


i 42 

Steaming chocolate, which Gilda had made, 
at one end of the table. And this morning it 
was the turn of Norma to serve at the other 
end. Such delicious Belgian chocolate! Such 
eggs and rice in Italian style as Norma had 
prepared I Up and down went the plates from 
hand to hand, like an endless chain. For 
everybody was hungry as a bear. Doughboy 
sat at a distance whining gently. He was 
learning good puppy manners, the chief of 
which is patience. But Patsy had disappeared 
like a white flash as soon as Xante had let him 
out, to get his own breakfast of field-mice. 
Anne thought she had never tasted a better 
breakfast. 

“Now come on, dish-washers I” With much 
ceremony an apron and clean dish towels were 
handed to Anne, and a dish mop to Beverly; 
and presently, with no very good grace on her 
part, the Golden Girl was initiated into the 
mysteries of a new job. Lucky it was that the 
dishes were non-breakable! But Beverly chat- 
tered while the process was going on, and the 
open-air pantry was a merry place. 

“How do you like it so far as you have gone, 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


43 


Anne?’’ asked Nancy, spoon in hand, poking 
her head out of the kitchen door. 

^‘It seems queer to me,” said Anne, remem- 
bering to be sulky. can’t get used to there 
being no servants.” 

“I couldn’t at first,” confessed Beverly. 
*^Down home even when we go for a few days 
into the country we take Mammy and old Joe 
and Mandy — she’s their daughter. You just 
ought to eat Mammy’s beaten biscuits and 
fried chicken 1” 

^^Are they black people?” asked Cicely 
Vane. 

^‘Yes, certainly,” drawled Beverly. “All 
our servants are niggers.” 

“Slaves, Beverly?” Freddie bounced sud- 
denly into the conversation in a way he had. 
Everybody laughed except Freddie and his 
Twin, who was busy scraping out an empty 
jam-jar, 

“Slaves!” cried Dick who was lugging in 
a pailful of water. “We don’t have any slaves 
in America, don’t you know that. Kid? Why, 
we fought a war to — ” Dick’s voice trailed 
off into silence, and for once that irrepressible 


44 


ROUND ROBIN 


boy looked confused. For Nancy was making 
frightful faces at him to remind him of the 
forbidden subject. Once upon a time Beverly’s 
grandfather had fought in that same war of 
which he spoke; while Dick’s own grand- 
father and Nancy’s had fought on the other 
side, to free the slaves. Those three young 
men had been college chums before the war. 
Colonel Peyton, a gallant soldier, had died 
for the cause he believed to be right. But the 
Union and Liberty had triumphed. This was 
the reason why the Northerners had agreed, 
before Beverly came, not to mention this sub- 
ject while she was in camp. 

‘^No, we haven’t any slaves in America, 
Freddie,” said Tante gently, “though some 
unfair things are still done, which will have 
to be corrected. But I believe nearly every- 
body in this land thinks alike about slavery 
nowadays.” 

“I reckon we do,” agreed Beverly. “You 
needn’t mind talking about that war before 
me, Nancy. I’m not sensitive about that. And 
there’s only one Union now, isn’t there?” 

“That’s just what I said about your Revolu- 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


45 


tion/’ said Cicely. can talk about any- 

thing, since we are all friendly, can’t we?” 

“Of course we can!” nodded Tante. “That 
is why it is so nice for different kinds of people 
to get together, always.” 

“Heia! Hoia!” called a shrill voice in the 
woods. And down the path came hurrying 
Nelly Sackett with a basket on her arm. She 
had run most of the way from the Cove, and 
was quite breathless. 

“I thought I’d never get here before you 
left!” she gasped. “Uncle Eph was so late 
this morning. He’s been out hauling since 
four o’clock, and has just got back. But here 
are your lobsters, Tante. I boiled them my- 
self before I came. I’m glad you waited.” 

“Dick wouldn’t have had a clam-bake with- 
out you, Nelly,” said Tante. “And anyway, 
we are not quite ready ourselves.” 

“Dick has invited us all to a clam-bake,” 
Nancy explained to Anne. “He has done his 
studying ahead and has a free morning.” 

“I hate clams,” answered Anne with a wry 
face. “I think I won’t go to the clam-bake.” 

“Oh, very well.” Nancy’s voice was cool. 


46 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘‘But I think you will be sorry. We have 
great fun at our picnics, and this one is to 
be at a new place that Dick has discovered. 
He and the Twins dug the clams yesterday 
afternoon. Everybody is going; but you can 
stay and keep house with Patsy, of course.” 

Anne had no mind to be left alone in the 
camp, even with Patsy. “Well, I suppose I 
had better go with you,” she said, rather un- 
graciously. 

“Where are your clams, Dick?” inquired 
Tante, hailing him as he was starting down 
to the boat with his two swaggering partners, 
proud of their importance on this occasion. 

“Oh, theyTe all right,” said Dick myste- 
riously. “I took good care of them yesterday. 
Don’t worry; I didn’t leave them in the sun, 
Tante. I was too clever for that. They are 
where they’d like to be. Say, there are clams 
enough at that place to feed the whole United 
States, I do believe! And all as happy as 
clams.” 

Dick came from the far West, where his 
father had a ranch. Everything about the sea 
was wonderful to him, and he was never tired 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


47 


of making new discoveries and serving up old 
ones in a new dress. 

Tante looked thoughtfully at Dick. ^‘Of 
course you know all about clam-bakes, Dick,” 
she said. know how you helped Cap’n 
Sackett last week. But — hadn’t we better take 
some luncheon besides? We never seem to 
have too much food on our picnics; and per- 
haps someone may not care for clams.” 

“Anne doesn’t,” Norma volunteered. 

“All right.” Dick looked a little disap- 
pointed. “I thought we’d got everything 
ready, and for once the girls needn’t bother. 
There will be clams enough for everybody 
who likes them. But if anyone is fussy — all 
right-0.” 

“Lend a hand, girls,” said Tante. “We’ll 
put up some sandwiches and eggs in a few 
minutes.” 

After the sandwiches were made, and while 
they waited for the eggs to hard-boil. Cicely 
went for the botany box which she always car- 
ried to get “specimens”; and Nancy, hovering 
about the living room, finally pounced on 
something for which she was looking. 


48 


ROUND ROBIN 


^‘What’s that pill-box for, Nancy queried 
Eddie, the sharp-eyed. 

“Well, if you must know, I^m going to hunt 
for some fern-seed,” said Nancy rather shyly. 
“You know to-night is Midsummer Eve. If 
I find some fern-seed I am going to try to 
become invisible.” 

“Pooh!” cried Dick. “You are a goose, 
Nancy!” But just then Patsy came scamper- 
ing up in a wide circle and jumped on Nancy’s 
shoulder. 

“You see, he knows!” she laughed. “He 
wants to go with me. My fairy cat is full of 
mischief to-day. He acts perfectly wild. He 
knows it is Midsummer Eve, don’t you, Patsy? 
But you can see fairies without fern-seed, I’m 
sure.” 

“You don’t really believe ” began Anne. 

But she was interrupted by a shout from the 
pier. “Hurry up, girls! Tide is just right! 
Oh, Reddy!” 

The Round Robin seized the baskets and 
wraps and hurried down the slip where the 
Togo was waiting. Tante and the Twins fol- 
lowed. Doughboy made fourteen out of what 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


49 


Norma called an “unlucky number.” Patsy 
was not invited. He was too “temperamen- 
tal,” Dick declared. It was a crowded boat- 
ful. But some of them sat on the floor and 
some on the deck with their legs dangling 
over. While the Twins and the pup chose 
their favorite safe place in the tiny cabin, and 
played at being stowaways. 

It was a good hour’s run across the Bay and 
up the entrance to a creek which Dick the 
adventurous had discovered the week before. 
As the boat entered the creek they saw the 
waves rushing in a mad race to fill up the 
little basin before it should be high water; 
when they would as madly begin to rush out 
again, after the excitable manner of tides. 

“It wasn’t like this yesterday afternoon,” 
said Dick proudly. “Why, it’s finer even than 
I thought!” 

“You came at low tide, you land-lubber,” 
said Hugh. “You forget the difference the 
tide makes in morning and afternoon.” 

A queer look came over Dick’s face. 
“That’s so,” he admitted. “But isn’t this 
pretty?” 


50 


ROUND ROBIN 


They agreed that it certainly was. Along 
the tide-rapids great rocks were half-un- 
covered, and on these were little brown heads 
bobbing, smooth grey bodies rolling over and 
over in ecstatic somersaults. 

^‘Oh what is it? What is it?” cried the 
Twins, popping out of the cabin when they 
heard the girls exclaim. 

“Ifs baby seals,” said Hugh. ^^They are 
doing their daily gymnastics, just as you do, 
Kids. I expect it’s like the setting-up exer- 
cises we had in the Army, eh, Victor?” 

“I should call them sitting-down exercises,” 
laughed Victor. 

“Maybe they are just breakfast rolls,” 
whispered Dick to Anne, who giggled, in spite 
of Nancy’s growl of protest at such punning, 
which the Club had agreed was not to be en- 
couraged. 

“What a place for a picnic!” cried Tante 
as they passed a beautiful point where the 
water was most rapid and where a group of 
pines overhung the tide, “Can’t we stop here, 
Dick?” 

“Oh, no,” he assured her. “We have got 
to have the clam-bake where the clams are. 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


51 


Wait till you see the beach! A great place 
for a fire, as safe as snails. There’s the place, 
just beyond that rock!” 

Just beyond the rock the boat drew up to 
the shore, a rock-strewn beach with a spit of 
sand below, now covered by the high tide. 
Hugh jumped out and held the boat for the 
rest to descend. ^‘Fine!” said he. “Where 
are your clams, Reddy?” 

Dick stood looking at the beach dubiously. 
“Jiminy!” he exclaimed. “I forgot about the 
tide! I dug the clams in the afternoon.” 

“And we buried them in boxes down in the 
sand,” volunteered Eddie. 

“So they would be happy and damp until 
picnic-time,” continued Freddie. “Where are 
they now, Dick?” 

“Where indeed!” cried Dick, mournfully. 
“Still happy and damp, I guess.” 

^^There once was a boy from the Westf^ 
chanted Nancy, beginning a limerick to cele- 
brate the affair in Club style: 

“/FAo invited a Club as his guest, 

To a clam-bake with pride; 

But he left out the tide — 


52 


ROUND ROBIN 


she hesitated for the last line — 

^^And it played a low untidy jest^ 

Dick finished the limerick himself, amid ap- 
plause and laughter. “How long will it be 
before these clams are uncovered, Xante?’’ he 
asked wistfully. 

“It is high tide, now, and you can’t get at 
them for nearly six hours,” she laughed. 

Dick groaned. “Those inconsiderate old 
tides of yours!” he said. “Now, out on the 
prairie you know where you are when you 
are there. The grass doesn’t go ebbing and 
flowing down and up. It stays put. I like 
solid ground, I do.” 

“If you were only Moses now,” Nancy 
teased him, “you could perhaps make the sea 
open and let you get at the clams.” 

“Or if you were Joshua you could do some- 
thing with the tide,” suggested Victor. 

“If your fairies were any good you’d make 
them get busy, Nancy,” retorted Dick. “But 
as it is, I suppose we’ll just have to go home.” 

“We’d all starve to death before six hours,” 
agreed Victor. 


DICK^S CLAMBAKE 


53 


‘*Oh, no, we have a luncheon,” laughed 
Tante. “I had a vision that something like 
this might happen. I brought bacon and the 
coffee pot.” 

^^Hurrah!” shouted the Twins, who had 
been looking very gloomy. 

“I can fry bacon,” said Dick humbly, 

I am a duffer about tides.” 

“All right. Let’s build a fire in this safe 
place, away from the trees and grass.” 

They scattered about for fire-wood, and 
presently they had a fine blaze under the 
shelter of a big rock. “It is a beautiful place 
for a picnic, Dick,” said Tante comfortingly. 
“I am sure the Indians would have liked it 
themselves for a camp.” 

“You’re right,” said Dick. “Your coast 
Indians did have some advantage over our 
plain Indians, I’ll agree.” 

“I’d like to stay here and live!” cried 
Norma, clasping her hands in the dramatic 
way she had. 

“Oh, Norma! With only the clams to listen 
to your music?” said Beverly. 

“Well, somebody else has thought as Norma 


54 


ROUND ROBIN 


does before now,” chuckled Dick. haven’t 
shown all the wonders of my discovery yet. 
Look, there’s sweet grass over in the bog be- 
hind the bank there. And great tall sedges 
for baskets. Then look at this bank itself! 
See, it’s made out of clam-shells. I think the 
Indians must have piled them here, long ago.” 

“It’s an old Indian shell-heap, by Jove!” 
exclaimed Hugh. “Reddy, you’ve made a 
discovery after all. They must have been pic- 
nicking here for generations before we were 
born, by the size of this heap.” 

“I thought it was a pretty good place for 
a clam-bake,” said Dick modestly. “Even if 
you don’t get your clams.” 

While they waited for the coffee and bacon, 
some of them fell to digging in the shell-heap. 
They found only a few charred bones, that 
looked like bird-bones, and some bits of 
broken pottery. But even these gave them a 
thrill. The Indians had been there! What 
had they been doing? They could imagine 
all sorts of things. 

They could hardly bear to stop digging 
even when the lunch call sounded. But how 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


55 


good the coffee smelled and how delicious the 
bacon tasted, as they sat around the bonfire 
which had died down to glowing coals, and 
munched the luncheon that was an after- 
thought of Tante’s. 

“I say!” cried Dick suddenly, with his 
mouth full of bacon, “I wonder if we look 
like the bands of Fijis who used to camp 
here?’^ 

“Fijis, you cowboy!” interrupted Hugh. 
“They were proper Penobscots who owned 
this part of the world.” 

“How I’d like to see them sitting around 
here, chucking their clam-shells one by one 
onto that heap ” 

“Unless they were waiting for the tide to 
go out, so they could get the clams,” tittered 
Nancy. Dick shied a pebble at her and went 
on with his word-picture. 

“ — Sitting around in a circle, gossiping about 
that gay little massacre they had just pulled 
off on the island over there. WowT Dick 
gave a western war-whoop that made the girls 
jump, and Norma covered her ears with hor- 
ror. Three crows arose protesting frantically 


56 


ROUND ROBIN 


from some nook beyond the bank, and flapped 
away inland, cawing bad luck to these in- 
vaders. 

“Yes. I feel like an Indian myself!” volun- 
teered Beverly unexpectedly. “I had an an- 
cestor who was an Indian, you know. Poca- 
hontas was her name.” 

“Pocahontas!” several voices echoed the 
familiar name in wonder. 

“I know about her!” chimed the Twins. 
“She ran out and saved Captain Smith” — 
“from having his head cut off” — “no, from be- 
ing roasted alive!” 

“Now I remember,” said Tante, “your 
mother’s family was very proud of being 
descended from Captain Smith’s dusky friend, 
Beverly. So are many of the old Virginian 
families. Pocahontas was a king’s daughter. 
Better still, she was a generous noble, loyal 
woman.” 

“She married an Englishman named Rolfe, 
and went to live in London,” added Cicely 
Vane. “I have seen her grave in a church in 
Gravesend.” 

“She ought to have married Captain 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


57 


Smith,” said Norma, who was romantic. 
‘‘That would have been beautiful!” 

“I reckon he was too old for her,” said 
Beverly. “She called him her foster-father. 
I don’t know what those first Virginians would 
have done without Pocahontas to keep the 
Indians friendly.” 

“Say, isn’t it great to have a real Indian 
here!” cried Dick. “I believe Beverly does 
look a little red, doesn’t she?” 

Beverly certainly turned red as they all 
stared at her black hair and eyes, her fine nose 
and high cheek-bones. 

“I’d be proud to,” she said with dignity. 
“I always liked the Indians. I think they 
were treated mighty meanly by the white 
folks, North^and South. You talk about the 
slaves !” 

“Didn’t Indians scalp the white settlers?” 
“And burn them and torture them?” The 
Twins had been, hearing tales from Cooper 
told by Dick. 

“Yes, they did,” admitted Beverly. “They 
didn’t know any better. The white men 
cheated them; and they knew better!” 


58 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘‘IVe seen Indians around the Harbor some- 
times,” volunteered Nelly Sackett. didn’t 
think much of them; shiftless-looking people, 
with baskets to sell.” 

Just then Cicely, who was facing away 
from the others, caught Nancy’s arm. “Look 
there!” she whispered pointing towards the 
woods behind them. 

Out of the shadow was creeping the strang- 
est figure. A bent old woman with a shawl 
drawn over her head and shoulders was ap- 
proaching cautiously. Her grey hair escaped 
in elf-locks, her cheeks were wrinkled like the 
sand at low tide. She looked like a witch. 
On her back was a great bundle of grass and 
reeds, tied with a rope. In her hand was a 
canoe paddle. Around her neck dangled a 
chain of shells and beads. She wore mocca- 
sins on her feet. She came toward the fire 
with a grim, sulky look on her face, and her 
little sunken eyes glanced from figure to figure 
warily. Eddie and Freddie shrank close to 
their mother’s skirts. Dick uttered a low 
whistle. 

“You wanted to see an Indian,” whispered 



69 





DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


61 


Hugh, ‘Well, here she is!’’ Everybody sat 
quite still, while the Id crone came close to 
the group. 

“How!” she said at last in a low grunt. 

“Good day,” answered Tante pleasantly. 
“We are picnicking, as you see, in this pretty 
place.” 

“Heard war-whoop,” said the hag sullenly. 
“Came to see who is on the land of my 
fathers. Her look was a challenge. The 
party exchanged glances. Here was a strange 
sequel to their talk! 

“My father was Chief,” the old woman 
drew herself up with dignity. “But I am all 
there is left of my tribe. All this land was 
ours,” she waved her paddle, apparently in- 
dicating the whole shore of the bay. “The 
white men took it from us. Now I have to 
get grass for baskets where I can. That is 
all for me to do.” 

“Have you baskets to sell?” asked Tante 
gently. 

“Not here,” said the squaw. “But I make 
them. Sometimes.” 

“Well, if you will bring some to us we 
would like to buy,” said Tante. 


62 


ROUND ROBIN 


“Mother!” Hugh tried to catch Xante’s 
eyes with a warning shake of his head. But 
the old woman answered Xante quickly. 

“Yes. I will come. Next week. You live 
over there?” she pointed in the right direc- 
tion. “I know.” She turned upon the young 
men with a sudden snarl. “Why you make 
war-whoop? Eh?” 

Dick stammered. “Oh — just for fun!” he 
said. Xhere was a black look in the old 
woman’s eyes and she muttered something 
below her breath. Xhen as suddenly she 
turned to go. Just then Freddie had an in- 
spiring thought. 

“Beverly is an Indian,” too!” he cried, 
pointing at the girl. “Pocahontas was her 
grandmother.” 

“Hush!” Dick jerked Freddie into silence. 

“Pocahontas?” the old squaw repeated the 
name and eyed Beverly strangely. “My name 
Sal Seguin.” Xhey could not tell whether 
or not she understood what Freddie had said. 
Beverly herself had nothing to say. 

“Ugh!” grunted the squaw at last. “White 
Indian? Ugh!” Whether in disgust or 


DICK’S CLAMBAKE 


63 


pleasure, she shook her head once at Beverly. 
Then without another word she disappeared 
up the bank. 

‘Well, you young monkey!” said Hugh to 
his little brother, “you did make a hit, didn’t 
you?” 

“I didn’t mind,” said Beverly. “Why 
should I? I will buy some baskets of the 
poor old thing when she comes.” But Hugh 
looked troubled. “I’m sorry she is coming 
to Round Robin, Mother!” he said. “I don’t 
like the old party’s looks. She doesn’t resem- 
ble Beverly in the least!” and he made a low 
bow to the Southerner. 

“I’ve seen her before,” said Victor unex- 
pectedly. “Once, when I was picking straw- 
berries away over on the mountain. And once 
when I landed to take a look at the boat-house 
of Idlewild. She was prowling about there.” 

“I’ll tell Uncle Eph,” said Nelly. “He 
won’t like that.” 

“Is she your grandmother, Beverly?” sud- 
denly asked Eddie, who was much confused 
by the previous remark of his twin. 

“Will she join the Round Robin?” ques- 


64 


ROUND ROBIN 


tioned Freddie. At that there was a roar of 
laughter. But Hugh capped the laugh with 
a surprise. 

“You girls needn’t laugh so hard,” said he. 
“For once Freddie has said something not 
altogether foolish. Some of the Indians had 
a Round Robin of their own — a ^get together.’ 
The very first League of Nations was Ameri- 
can after all! The Five Nations of the Iro- 
quois were just that.” 

“It has taken the world a good while to 
catch up with those savages!” sighed Tante. 

As the Togo chug-chugged noisily home 
over the waves that afternoon, the girls spied 
a birch canoe creeping silently along the 
shore, propelled by experienced hands. And 
the canoe was filled with bundles of green. 

“I guess old Hoky-Poky had a profitable 
day,” chuckled Dick. 

“Well, so have we, in spite of clams,” 
laughed Nancy. “Don’t you think so, Anne?” 

“It has been very pleasant,” said Anne with 
reserve as she stepped ashore. “But that old 
woman made me nervous!” 


CHAPTER Vj 


MIDSUMMER EVE 

dear! I forgot my fern-seed !” 
cried Nancy, as they reached Round 
Robin. 'Why didn’t you remind me, 
Cicely, when we were getting the sweet grass? 
The clam-bake was so exciting I quite forgot 
about to-night.” 

"I think it’s too early for fern-seed,” said 
Cicely. “I haven’t seen any this year. But 
if there is any to be found, surely it would 
have been on that mysterious island, where 
there seems to be pretty nearly everything 
else.” 

"Including witches,” laughed Dick. 

"And a buried treasure of clams, Reddy,” 
added Hugh. 

"Perhaps Patsy will help me find some 
fern-seed,” said Nancy, running up the path 
to greet the stay-at-home. "He knows every- 

65 


66 


ROUND ROBIN 


thing, I believe. He must be hungry for his 
dinner — Patsy, Patsy!” Nancy began to call 
through the woods and to give the little shrill 
whistle which the white cat always under- 
stood and answered with his agreeable miaou. 

But this time there was no answer. Patsy 
did not come. Patsy was not to be found. 
Not even the lure of lobster set appetizingly 
out for his supper, nor the tempting sound of 
a plate being scraped with a knife, which had 
hitherto been an unfailing charm, recalled the 
white kitten to his mistress. 

What was to be done? The camp was in 
an uproar. Never had Patsy been out at night. 
It could not be allowed 1 The Twins went off 
in one direction, the boys in others. The girls 
scattered through woods and along the shore. 
Nancy knew his favorite haunts. But Patsy 
was not under the great beech tree where the 
squirrels chattered. He was not cushioned in 
the fragrant cedar-bushes over the wall in the 
country of the field-mice. The dell under the 
great pine told no news of him. Dick found 
no print of little feet in the mud of the brook, 
or in the sand of the bathing beach. 


MIDSUMMER EVE 


67 


‘Tatsy! Patsy!” the woods rang with the 
anxious cry; the evening bird-chorus seemed 
to take it up with a mocking cadenza. For 
they had no cause to love Patsy the prowler. 

Finally the Camp gave him up for the 
night. Nancy could hardly eat her supper 
she was so worried. “I shall never see my 
kitten again!” she wailed. ‘‘The foxes will 
get him. Or he will tumble into the sea and 
be drowned. Or he may stray off into the 
deep woods and become a wild cat!” 

“You needn’t worry,” soothed her mother. 
“Patsy can take care of himself, like any na- 
tive. I’m sure of that” 

“But he never was out alone all night,” 
lamented Nancy. “And this is Midsummer 
Eve, of all times ! Who knows what may hap- 
pen to him?” 

“If Patsy is a fairy cat he will surely be 
safe,” Cicely comforted her cousin. This 
thought alone seemed to give Nancy a little 
hope. She forgot all about fern-seed and the 
charms she had intended to try on this magic 
night After supper she and Cicely retired 
early to their tent in the Fairy Ring. 


68 


ROUND ROBIN 


^What a fuss about a cat!’^ thought some 
of the campers. But most of them were as 
sorry as could be. For they loved the beau- 
tiful Patsy. 

sha’n’t sleep all night,” Nancy declared. 

^“Nonsense!” Cicely retorted, being a prac- 
tical common-sense person. ‘‘What good will 
that do Patsy?” 

“He might come home in the night,” said 
Nancy dubiously. 

“Well, if he does, he will be sure to tell 
you,” said Cicely sleepily. And that was the 
last she knew for a long time. 

In the middle of the night. Cicely suddenly 
opened her eyes and sat up in bed. The woods 
outside were very still; but something was 
moving in the tent. 

“Nancy! Are you asleep?” whispered 
Cicely. The moon shone in through the door- 
flap and Cicely saw her cousin creeping mys- 
teriously about the floor. “What is the mat- 
ter, Nancy?” asked Cicely again. 

“I’m trying to find my moccasins. I’m go- 
ing out to look for Patsy. I’m sure I can find 
him in the moonlight,” Nancy answered in 


MTOSUMMER EVE 


69 


the same whisper. can’t stand it, Cicely!” 

‘‘But it’s the middle of the night!” Cicely’s 
voice faltered. “Wait till morning, N ancy, do.” 

“I can’t wait till morning,” Nancy said; and 
Cicely knew she had been crying by the sound 
of her voice. “I must go now.” 

“Then I’ll go too,” sighed Cicely, loyal, 
though her heart balked at the idea of braving 
this American wilderness in the dead of night. 

The two girls slipped moccasins on their 
bare feet and threw on their dressing-gowns; 
then stole out of the tent into the moonlight, 
which silvered everything with a magic touch. 
The whole lit-up world looked wonderfully 
beautiful. But the shadows were blacker than 
ever, by the same charm. It did not seem like 
the world they knew by day. 

They crept carefully by the sleeping tents. 
In the door of the third one stood a little 
figure, white and fairy-like, looking out into 
the woods with big eyes. “Why, it’s Anne 
Poole!” Nancy whispered to Cicely who clung 
to her hand. “She isn’t asleep, either!” 

Anne joined them immediately. “You are 
going to look for Patsy?” she said. “I thought 


70 


ROUND ROBIN 


of doing that, too. But I wouldn’t have dared 
go alone. May I come? He is such a darling 
kitty!” 

Nancy’s heart warmed to the Golden Girl. 
^‘Ah, do!” she said. “Let’s get out into the 
woods.” She felt the two girls shiver at the 
words. But they were both bound to the ad- 
venture. “I have a feeling that Patsy is in 
the woods,” whispered Nancy. 

Step by step, gingerly at first, then more 
confidently as they grew accustomed to the 
shadows, the three girls walked down the path 
into the woods. “Patsy! Patsy!” called Nancy 
in the littlest of voices, so as not to waken the 
Camp. But nothing answered. To Anne, 
fresh from the City, the stillness was almost 
loud. She could hear her heart beat, thump 
thump. In the woods were strange little 
noises; the snapping of twigs, tiny rustles; 
now and then a smothered chirp. The night 
was not empty, but full of life that they could 
not see. It gave a strange feeling to know 
this. A hundred little eyes might be looking 
at them this minute! A white cat is not easily 
hidden. But Patsy did not appear. 



71 




i 


/ 


MroSUMMER EVE 


7S 

‘^Let’s follow the brook down to the shore,’’ 
whispered Nancy, squeezing Cicely’s hand 
before she let it drop; for they had to go in 
single file down the path. ‘^If I don’t find 
him there I will go back, I promise. Patsy 
isn’t likely to cross the brook. Cats don’t like 
running water, you know.” 

^^Neither do fairies!” murmured Cicely, 
was thinking of that, too,” said Nancy. 
But Anne Poole said: ^^He might )e up in 
the top of a tree.” 

They crept through the silvery meadow, 
along the little path that Patsy loved, for by 
day it was full of pleasant crawling, creeping, 
hopping things. The girls did not like to 
think of this just now. They kept calling the 
cat under their breath. But no Patsy an- 
swered. No little white furry shape came 
running to meet them, as he always did when 
they chanced to pass his ambush. 

^We shall see him right away if he is here,” 
said Nancy eagerly, as they came out on the 
shore, almost as bright as day in the moon- 
light. Here the brook trickled down over the 
rocks in a baby waterfall, a favorite spot of 


74 


ROUND ROBIN 


Patsy’s, where he was accustomed to vary his 
hunting trips with a drink. But no Patsy was 
there, and Nancy gave a groan. “I give up!” 
she said. 

Just then Cicely clutched her cousin’s arm 
and drew her back behind a screen of elder 
bushes. At the same moment Anne seized her 
hand. “There is somebody under that tree!” 
she whispered. 

Sure enough. Under a drooping fir tree 
a figure was crouched, her knees drawn up 
to her chin. By her side was a bundle. 

“It looks like a witch!” murmured Nancy. 
And Cicely thought so too. But Anne knew 
better. “It’s the Indian woman,” she said, 
“Sal Seguin.” 

“So it is!” The girls stared. And Anne had 
a dreadful thought. “Maybe she has Patsy 
in that bundle. Maybe she took him for his 
beautiful fur!” But she did not tell this 
thought to Nancy. 

The old woman sat with her shawl drawn 
over her head, apparently dozing. The girls 
watched her, without moving — five, perhaps 
ten minutes. Then Sal Seguin stirred and 


IVnDSUMMER EVE 


75 


glanced over her shoulder, almost as if she 
felt someone was looking at her. Presently 
she got up and went down to the water’s edge, 
taking her bundle with her. They saw her 
get into her canoe and paddle silently away 
towards the Harbor. Her skilful strokes made 
no sound. 

^ What do you suppose she was doing down 
here?” asked Cicely, the first to speak. 

hope she hasn’t got Patsy in that bundle!” 
shivered Anne, unable to conceal her fear any 
longer. 

^‘Patsy! Oh, she couldn’t keep him in 
there!” cried Nancy. “He is too full of life 
and temper. You would know if you had 
ever tried to put him in his traveling basket, 
Anne.” 

But Anne thought about that silky white 
fur, and was not convinced. 

They did not need the North Star, or the 
bright Cassiopea’s Chair that stood over 
the camp, to show them the way back. The 
path was as plain as day. The thought of 
that old woman behind them made them 
glance over their shoulders now and then as 


76 


ROUND ROBIN 


they crept silently back up the hill, and per- 
haps made them walk a little faster. 

wish Beverly had been here,” said Nancy 
when they were almost at the top of the slope. 
‘Terhaps she would have dared to speak to 
the Indian and ask if she had seen Patsy.” 

^‘Beverly is sound asleep,” said Anne. 
‘‘Nothing seems to disturb her. I tumbled 
over my camp-stool, but she didn’t hear.” 

“Thank you for coming,” said Nancy, 
touching Anne’s hand as they parted at the 
Fairy Ring. 

“I’m sorry we didn’t find him,” said Anne 
earnestly. “Maybe he will come yet.” 

Nancy shook her head. “No,” she said, “I 
haven’t any hope now.” 

At breakfast the three girls came in looking 
rather pale and very sleepy. Patsy was still 
missing. They could hardly make the others 
believe that they had really gone down the 
pasture by moonlight. And when they told 
about Sal Seguin, Dick insisted that they 
must have been dreaming. But when they 
mentioned Sal’s bundle, Hugh thought, as 
Anne had done, about Patsy’s white fur. “I 


MTOSUMMER EVE 


77 


wish we had never seen that old Indian !” he 
said. 

Nancy had stolen away as soon as possible 
to make a last despairing search for her pet. 
And while the others were still talking about 
the adventure of the night before, questioning 
Cicely and Anne, as they wiped the breakfast 
dishes, the Twins set up a shout. 

“Here she is! Nancy has Patsy in her 
arms.’’ 

Breathless Nancy was toiling up the slope, 
carrying the great ball of fluff. Her eyes were 
shining and she laughed out loud with happi- 
ness as she shouted “I’ve got him! I’ve got 
him! The prodigal son!” 

“Where did you find him, Nancy?” asked 
Anne dropping her dish towel and running to 
stroke the soft white fur of the blinking cat. 

“Right in the middle of the path!” said she. 
“I went down the same way we took last night, 
to the shore. And there he lay just above the 
spot where we saw Sal Seguin, under a little 
juniper busE, right in the path. He just lay 
there, too tired to move. He couldn’t drag 
himself up the slope, but he answered when 


78 


ROUND ROBIN 


I called. Such a weary, worn, limp cat! 
What do you suppose he had been doing to 
get so tired? Where do you suppose he had 
been all night?” 

''Nobody knew where Kilmeny had been* 

said Cicely, quoting the old ballad about the 
girl who went to visit the Fairies. 

^‘Did you go off with the Fairies, Patsy?” 
asked Nancy, putting her face close to that 
of the white cat. 

*'Mi-aour cried Patsy dolorously. 

believe he did!” whispered Nancy to 
Cicely Vane. 

“I’m glad he’s safe,” said Anne, and the 
white cat licked her cheek feebly. He was 
almost too tired to be polite. 

“Anyway, Sal Seguin didn’t carry him off,” 
said Hugh. “That was what I suspected.” 

“Perhaps she did, and he found his way 
back,” suggested Anne. “That was what I 
was afraid of, too.” 

“I believe he was there all the time and 
we didn’t see him,” declared Nancy. “I be- 
lieve he found the fern-seed that we missed, 
ate it, and became invisible.” 


MIDSUMMER EVE 


79 


Anyway, wherever he had been, Patsy slept 
all that day on Nancy’s bed, the most ex- 
hausted kitten ever seen. And he never told 
the Club what adventures he had experienced 
on Midsummer Eve. 

Hugh and Victor met Captain Sackett that 
morning when they went to the Harbor for 
the mail, and they asked him if he had seen 
an old Indian woman in the neighborhood. 

The Captain scratched his head thought- 
fully. ^‘Why yes,” said he, in his nasal drawl, 
did see an old woman in a shawl early this 
mornin’, when I went haulin’. Yes, she had 
a bundle in her canoe. I guess it was grass, 
or herbs or somethin’. She’s quite a character. 
But I haven’t seen her around for some time 
till this mornin’. They say her tribe owned 
this whole shore once. But not in my time, 
nor in my father’s or grandfather’s, I guess. 
The Indians were treated pretty mean, some- 
times.” 

^‘Where do you suppose she is now, Cap’n?” 
queried Hugh. The Captain shrugged his 
shoulders. “Who knows?” said he. “We 
can’t keep tabs on everything that goes on 


80 


ROUND ROBIN 


along this coast full of islands. I guess 1^11 
run up and take a look at Idlewild this after- 
noon. Mr. Poole asked me to kinder keep 
an eye on it. Say, has the little girl been up 
there yet? Little Anne, I mean?” 

The boys said No, she hadn’t had time yet. 
The old man sighed. ‘T hope she’ll come to 
see me too,” he said. ‘‘But I don’t want you 
to tell her so.” 

Hugh laughed. “Whatever you tell her, 
she is likely to do the opposite thing,” he said. 
“She’s a spoiled kid, Cap’n.” 

Again the Captain sighed. “I guess she 
is,” he said. 

But Victor put in a good word for the new- 
comer. “She’s awfully fond of animals, any- 
way,” he said. 

“A little cat!” laughed Hugh. 


CHAPTER yi 


THE PATCHWORK QUILT 

rain!” Norma lifted her head from 
her pillow and groaned. “No swim 
this morning, and Victor was just 
teaching me that new stroke!” Norma hated 
rain. Grey skies of New England always put 
her into a bad temper. But her little Belgian 
tent-mate was philosophical. 

“We need ze rain for ze garden,” said 
Gilda, “and for ze spring of wasser. Tante 
said, if it not rains in July, it be bad for us, 
the spring running dry.” 

“I wonder how the Golden Girl likes living 
in a damp tent!” thought Norma with a 
grimace as she put on her wrinkled blouse and 
brushed her unwrinkled hair. “It’s all very 
well for you crinkly girls, Gilda. But do look 
at me!” She stared in the small mirror 
tragically. 


81 


82 


ROUND ROBIN 


I 


“Pooh!” said Gilda, who was learning a 
few Americanisms. “Nobody care about 
crinkles or wrinkles in a camp. Zat is what 
Tante said. I like zat Not so? Nobody 
mind also leetle damps.” 

"'Leetle dampsr Anne Poole found it 
more than a little damp as she picked her way 
from rock to rock and around tiny lakes in 
the path that led from the Fairy Ring to the 
bungalow. She wondered what campers could 
find to do on such a dismal day, and regretted 
the comforts of Idlewild; the pool room, 
the piano and victrola, the library with its 
elaborately bound volumes. Anne had been 
the only one who read books at Idlewild. Mr. 
Poole had put them in as a part merely of 
the library furnishings. So the library at 
Idlewild had been Anne’s almost undisturbed 
domain. 

Though the Camp had turned out to be 
quite tolerable during the week of sunny days, 
with so many pleasant new things to do, Anne 
wondered what in the world would keep her 
from being bored by a deluge like this. But 
to her amazement she found that leetle damps 


THE PATCHWORK QUILT 


83 


did not make much difference to the Round 
Robin. To be sure, Dick was the only one 
who went for the morning swim. He declared 
it was drier in the salt water than on land. 
To-day nobody was interested in going to pick 
the wild strawberries which were growing 
sweeter and ruddier every day in the meadows 
back of the Fairy Ring. But the boys went 
about looking like fishermen in their yellow 
slickers and hats; for the mail had to be 
fetched from the village and the milk from 
Maguire’s farm, rain or shine. Cicely also 
put on her mackintosh and went forth as usual 
to “botanize.” You cannot keep an English 
girl indoors just on account of rain. Presently 
she returned, rosy-cheeked, to tell about the 
lovely green rosettes that were unfolding on 
the old spruce trees, and the wonderful color 
in the deep woods. The surf on the rocks was 
splendid too, she said. So everybody had to 
run out to see; everybody but Patsy, who 
looked very complacent and fluffy, when they 
all returned dripping and draggled, but jolly. 

But there was also plenty to do indoors that 
kept the day from being really “dull.” House- 


84 


ROUND ROBIN 


work! Anne had never imagined that there 
could be any fun in the kitchen I But as Tante 
managed it, there was a regular competition 
to see who should make the greatest hit, as 
it came the turn of each girl to make a special 
dish for breakfast or lunch or supper. And 
a rainy day was a fine undistracted time for 
the amateur cooks to get ahead with their 
experiments in cake and pudding and bread, 
fudge and cream peppermints. 

A rainy day is good for basket-making, too; 
for the grass of sedge or raffia is easier to work 
when it is a little damp. Beverly spread her- 
self in a window-seat of the living room and 
made great progress on her basket, while some 
of the rest did their weekly mending, and 
Norma read aloud. Nancy, however, retired 
to a dry quiet corner of the bungalow loft, to 
finish the fairy story which had been waiting 
for a wet day to be ^‘transplanted,” as she 
called it. Then there were always letters to 
write, if one had time. 

But no one would have had time to spare 
at Round Robin even during the Flood, 
Nancy declared; with a pair of lively Twins, 


THE PATCHWORK QUH^T 


85 


a brown dog and a white cat eager to be played 
with. A girl who loved children and animals 
had no excuse for being bored. Anne soon had 
her hands full, when the children found what 
wonderful things she could make with scissors 
and paper. As a child left to her own re- 
sources most of the time, Anne had learned 
how to amuse herself in these simple ways. 
The time went so fast that she was amazed 
indeed when the tea-squad demanded her 
help. Anne had already learned how to set 
a table very nicely. 

But the best part of a rainy day at camp — 
like the best part of many a speaker’s ad- 
dress — is the end of it. By evening everybody 
in camp is tired of being busy and of moving 
about. Everybody wants to keep still and be 
amused. 

After supper the boys heaped up a great 
fire in the fire-place, and everyone drifted into 
her favorite seat or onto his favorite rug or 
cushion. Anne Poole retired into a dim 
corner, where she could watch the faces in 
the firelight without being watched herself. 
She was still studying all these strangers 


86 


ROUND ROBIN 


critically, trying to see how they could possibly 
be so different from the persons she had 
hitherto known. And yet, as she had to con- 
fess to herself, they were not so terrible after 
all; not nearly so uncomfortable to live with 
as she had feared they would be. 

^Xet’s pop some corn!” said Eddie Batch- 
elder, “mayn’t we, Mumsie?” 

“Let’s tell stories,” suggested Norma. 
“Everybody tell a story but me! You have 
got one all ready, Nancy. I saw you writing 
it this morning!” 

“It’s only just transplanted. It isn’t blos- 
somed yet,” protested Nancy. 

“You tell a story, Xante,” suggested Beverly. 
“You haven’t told one this year.” 

“If everybody were here,” said Xante. 

“We’re all here,” said Anne, counting 
around the circle, completed by Doughboy 
and- Patsy, curled up on the rugs. 

“No. Nelly Sackett isn’t here,” several 
voices cried. “But it is raining so hard I sup- 
pose she won’t come.” 

But just then there was a tap on the door, 
and in pattered a little figure in rubber boots 


THE PATCHWORK QUH^T 87 

and yellow slicker, with the Captain’s tar- 
paulin hat drawn down over her curls which 
were kinky with rain-drops. The Twins 
rushed upon her and seized her umbrella, and 
lantern, while Dick undertook to relieve her 
of her rubber boots. Tante asked her if she 
had not found it hard to keep the road on this 
dark night, but Nelly said Oh, no; her feet 
seemed to know the way. Whereupon Dick 
began to chant his favorite poem, accenting it 
as he pulled at the reluctant boots: 

*‘My feet they haul me round the house, 
They hoist me up the stairs, 

I on-ly have to steer them and 
They ride me twtxywheresl 

“There you are, Miss Sackett. Dry as the 
Ark!” 

“I should think you-all would be afraid 
to come alone, Nelly,” Beverly drawled. 
“Why, I wouldn’t go out of the house alone 
at noon; let alone a dark night in the rain! 
Goodness I You are as bad as Nancy with her 
moonlight rambles I” 


88 


ROUND ROBIN 


Beverly’s mother had been Xante’s best 
friend, when they were girls at school to- 
gether. But the children of those two school- 
girls had been born in places where the cus- 
toms and conditions were so different that it 
affected their whole lives. Xante’s children 
were brought up never to be afraid to go any- 
where, ever. Freedom is always safest where 
everyone has always been free. So she an- 
swered Beverly — ^Xt’s different up North, 
Beverly. At least, it always has been. Nelly 
isn’t afraid of the dark, are you? But I wonder 
you didn’t prefer your cosy home on such a 
stormy night, my Dear.” 

“I just had to come!” said Nelly. ‘^Mother 
and Uncle Eph have gone to meeting. I 
guessed there would be stories here.” 

“Stories! Stories!” clamored Eddie, who 
was intently watching Freddie’s small success 
with the corn-popper, now jiggling furiously. 

“I think I shall have to bring out the Patch- 
work Quilt, to illustrate my story,” said Xante. 
Nancy and the Xwins began to giggle, and 
Hugh whistled. Xhey alone knew what their 
mother meant, for it was one of the family 


THE PATCHWORK QIHLT 


89 


jokes. Tante routed Norma and Beverly out 
of one of the window seats in order to get 
a rolled-up bundle from the interior; and 
presently spread it out upon the floor in the 
middle of the room. It was a patchwork quilt 
of faded and old-fashioned calico squares, set 
in a curious pattern; half-finished and with 
ragged edges. 

“This is our family fancy-work,” said 
Tante. “I found it up in the garret of our 
old house when I was a little girl. My mother 
said as a tiny child she remembered it half 
finished. She added a few squares herself in 
a half-hearted way, she said. It must have 
been begun by some girl in our family before 
the Revolution, and has been growing gradu- 
ally ever since, square by square. But we are 
not much of a fancy-work family, I fear. I 
meant to finish the quilt before I was married. 
But I never did; just as my mother never did. 
So I gave it to Nancy. She works on it some- 
times, I believe.” 

“I have made four squares in fifteen years!’’ 
laughed Nancy, “those with my blue-and- 


90 


ROUND ROBIN 


white gingham in. But it takes a lot of time. 
I’d rather write stories.” 

^‘As family fancy-work it seems likely to 
last for a good many generations,” said Mrs. 
Batchelder. “We use it now chiefly as a note- 
book for stories.” 

Seeing that Gilda looked puzzled, Freddie 
explained by putting his thumb in the middle 
of a black square nearest to him, as the quilt 
lay spread on the floor. "'Thai was a pirate 
story,” he said. “And the blue one with stars 
on it was about a sea-captain and a stowaway. 
And the little mousy-grey square was the girl- 
Pilgrim who came over in the Mayflower and 
was Mother’s own ancestress.” A howl from 
Eddie interrupted him. 

“Freddie! You’re burning up the pop- 
corn!” Sure enough. A dubious smell re- 
minded Freddie of his forgotten duty. The 
pop-corn had hopped as fast as it could, when 
he forgot to shake it; but it could not hop 
fast enough to keep its feet from getting 
scorched. Freddie looked ruefully at the 
charred black men, and according to the rules 
of the game, handed over the popper to Eddie, 


THE PATCHWORK QIHLT 


91 


who took it importantly, and after refilling it 
began to jiggle it with great care. 

“Speaking of your little grey Mayflower 
maid, Freddie,’’ said Tante, “she had just five 
kernels of parched corn for her first American 
meal, they say. I hope they weren’t so black 
as these of yours. Sonny!” Tante was looking 
at the quilt thoughtfully, and Norma called 
out: “Story! Story!” 

“Well,” said Tante, “I am thinking of an- 
other sort of story — not that one. Once upon 
a time there was a great, big Patchwork Quilt, 
3000 miles wide, made up of ever so many 
little ‘squares’ of irregular shape. Not one of 
them was really square; any more than are 
the ‘squares’ in our cities. Every square was 
itself made up of all sorts of little patches and 
pieces and scraps. Some of the pieces came 
from the North where it is cold; and some 
from the South where it is hot. They were 
all different — no two just alike in color or ma- 
terial or quality. Some came from the East 
with its strange wonder and brightness; and 
some were of the West, rough and serviceable. 
There were fine and precious squares, and 


92 


ROUND ROBIN 


others of flimsy or even shoddy goods; many 
were coarse, and some were worn pretty thin. 
But pieced together and backed and quilted, 
sewed with unbreakable thread, they became 
strong and durable. It made a firm, warm 
quilt without any rips or holes. The chief 
beauty of the quilt was this wholeness, this 
keeping together in an unbroken pattern of 
squares.’’ 

Some of the group were looking puzzled. 
“What does Mother mean, Hugh?” asked 
Freddie who was leaning against his big 
brother’s knee, critically watching his Twin’s 
efforts with the pop-corn. Gilda listened 
eagerly for Hugh’s answer. “America!” he 
whispered under his breath, and he looked 
across at Victor, who nodded, squaring his 
shoulders. They had both fought for America, 
and loved her name. 

“If this quilt had been all of one kind of 
material,” Tante went on, “it would have been 
old-fashioned, like the other quilts, some of 
which were very beautiful, but badly worn. 
Some of them were tattered and rent into bits. 
You can see them on the map, painted one 


THE PATCHWORK QUILT 93 

solid color; but that doesn’t show how frayed 
they are at the edges where they have been 
torn or snipped away by cruel shears.” 

'Shears' means wars,” explained Victor 
under his breath. ^^Cruel they are! The old 
quilts are the old kingdoms of Europe, 
Freddie.” 

‘Tt’s a funny kind of story!” said Eddie 
dubiously, agitating the popper, and not to 
be distracted by Freddie’s whispers. 

^^But this quilt I’m telling about,” went on 
Tante,” “this new quilt was made up of pieces 
out of nearly all the old ones; fresh, bright 
pieces, most of them, the best and strongest 
part of the many-colored counterpanes of the 
world. Every one of these pieces was needed 
to make up the new pattern, sewed with the 
thread of old tradition, law and order. Every 
patch had its own place in the great getting- 
together, named a Union.” 

“Why, the United States is a great Round 
Robin, isn’t it, Mumsie?” cried Nancy. “I 
never thought of it before.” 

“So it is!” nodded Victor. “And some day 
we shall have a still bigger League, when all 


94 


ROUND ROBIN 


the nations of the world get together and make 
their squares fit into a beautiful pattern, with- 
out losing each its own shape.’’ 

^‘That’s it!” Tante nodded. “The whole 
world will not be free until it is bound to- 
gether; bound by something besides cables 
and railroads and wireless.” 

Gilda was bending over the quilt studying 
it eagerly. “Zere is a square of La Belgique/'' 
she cried, pointing to a patch of black, red, 
and yellow. “Hurrah for brave Belgium!” 
cried Dick. “We need her pluck that saved 
the world.” 

“And there is a bit of Italy,” said Norma, 
laying a finger on a cornerwise patch of red 
and green, with white between. 

“Mother had a dress of that pretty print,” 
interpolated Tante. “How Italy does bring 
brightness everywhere! And there is the tri- 
color of France. The blue and red are a little 
faded, Victor, because France with her fine 
gifts has been here in our quilt a long time; 
among the very first. French sailors, Norse 
and Icelandic, all came to America before the 
Spanish named it and the English mapped it.” 


THE PATCHWORK QUDLT 95 

grandmother was French,” said Nelly 
Sackett “She came from Canada.” 

“I am part Spanish,” said Dick. “I guess 
that’s why I am so much interested in pirates. 
I’m a regular Patchwork Quilt myself! I’m 
part Irish and part Dutch and part Swedish, 
too. They all had a hand in building 
America.” 

“You’re an old Hyphen!” laughed Hugh. 
“It’s the Hyphens who make most of the 
trouble in this country. They think more 
about the land from which their ancestors 
came than about this one that claims their 
whole allegiance.” 

“Hyphen yourself!” retorted Dick. “You 
think a lot more about ancestors than I do. 
I’m a hundred percent. American, I am; 
though I do come from the opposite side of 
the Continent, 3000 miles from the Hub. And 
anyone who says I’m not had better look out! 
If I had been a few years older I’d have been 
a war-veteran too, with a brass star to make 
me feel smart. Or maybe I’d have been a 
dead hero, with a medal!” 

Tante hastened to soothe Dick’s troubled 


96 


ROUND ROBm 


spirit, saying that Hugh was only joking when 
he spoke of the hyphen. For nearly every- 
body in this country has some foreign blood 
in his veins, of which he ought to be proud, 
unless it makes him the less American in 
loyalty. Then to change the subject Xante 
pointed out in the quilt the colors that might 
represent Poland with its gifts of music; the 
blue and white of Greece, with its tradition 
of beauty. In one square she saw the faith 
of the Jews, loyal to what they held true and 
pure; in another was Armenian patience and 
skill of hand. This purple suggested the 
heather of Scotland, thrift and grit and 
honesty on which America had builded firm 
structures. A bright pink square she declared 
must be from Bohemia, the home of fairy- 
tales. And so on. What would America do 
without all these gifts from the older lands? 

‘^This looks like a green English meadow,” 
said Cicely picking out a vivid square. 

‘What are we, Mother?” asked Nancy 
presently, “we who are just Yankees and 
nothing else, since we left off being English 
one Fourth of July?” 


THE PATCHWORK QUH^T 


97 


‘T think the tiny patch of greenish-grey 
represents us, Nancy,’’ laughed her mother. 
“English with a difference. There isn’t so 
conspicuously much of us in the patchwork, 
for the brighter colors crowd close about us. 
But you see a lot of squares have grey in the 
background, with polka dots and checks, 
stripes, figures, invisible brocade, and change- 
able effects. The Yankee spirit is pretty well 
scattered over the old quilt from border to 
border. We furnished a good deal of the 
thread that sewed the squares together, too. 

“Well, my part of the story is done,” fin- 
ished Tante. “You have all helped to tell it. 
But the quilt is full of many more thrilling 
tales, I know.” 

“Dick is crazy to tell one,” said Beverly 
mischievously. 

“Well, I know a story that might be a western 
square of the quilt,” said Dick modestly. “It’s 
very short and it’s very true. Father told 
it to me.” 

“Let’s hear it, Dick,” said Tante. And 
looking sly, Dick began. 

“Well, you know my father’s grandfather 


98 


ROUND ROBIN 


and grandmother started^out West from New 
England early in the game. I guess they got 
tired of hearing Hugh’s great-grandfather tell 
about the doings of his great-grandfather who 
came over in the Mayflower! Well, they 
traveled the way the pioneers did, in a prairie 
schooner, you know — a big wagon drawn by 
oxen, with all their furniture and ploughs and 
pigs and chickens aboard; besides a lot of 
kids. That’s how they went all the way across 
the country; because there weren’t any rail-^ 
roads, of course. They had a terrible time.’ 
There were wolves and Indians, and floods 
on the great rivers. One time the food gave 
out. And they couldn’t find water for days. 
Some of them were taken sick with a fever, 
and the littlest baby died. They buried him 
out in the middle of the prairie, and nobody 
knows where his grave is to this day. But 
I think it was somewhere near Chicago, 
Anne.” 

“Well?” said Nancy. “Is that all the 
story?” 

“Isn’t that enough?” asked Dick pretending 


THE PATCHWORK QUILT 99 

to be hurt ^Tt’s the history of my patriotic 
ancestors.’’ 

“But what’s the point?” asked Victor pok- 
ng Reddy in the ribs. 

“The point is,” said Dick, getting to his feet 
ready to make a hasty retreat to his tent — 
“that I am descended from that little kid who 
died!” 

The uproar that followed this anti-climax 
ended the story-telling for the evening. Nelly 
Sackett refused to let Reddy go home with 
her after such a fake ending to a real story. 
Instead it was Victor who had that honor, and 
the two departed under one umbrella to the 
tune of ''Seeing Nelly Home/' chorused by 
the Round Robin and derisive Dick. 


CHAPTER VII 


SAL SEGUIN 

I T was a week before Sal Seguin kept her 
promise, or threat, to bring her baskets to 
Round Robin. 

One hot afternoon Anne Poole had retired 
to the Fairy Ring, presumably to write letters. 
Beverly, who tried to give Anne full posses- 
sion of the tent as often as she wished it, was 
swinging in the Gloucester hammock on the 
piazza, with Nancy and Gilda. They were 
all lazily watching Cicely who was arranging 
the flowers she had gathered that morning in 
her daily “prowl.” 

“You just ought to see the flowers in the 
South, Cicely,” said Beverly. “The flower 
markets are the prettiest places! And our 
flowers are big, bright luscious ones; not like 
these pale little Yankee things. We have 
something blooming all the year round.” 

100 


SAL SEGUm 


101 


^‘And further south are waxy magnolias, 
and Cherokee roses and azaleas and trumpet- 
vines — oh, they are lovely!” said Nancy. 

“But I think these twin-flowers are wonder- 
ful,” said Cicely, holding up a spray of the 
creeper with a pair of tiny pink bells on the 
end. “We don’t have this in England. I fol- 
lowed a delicious odor like heliotrope in the 
woods, and came upon a whole pink rug of 
this fairy-flower!” 

“You are a real flower detective,” said 
Nancy. “A botanical Sherlock Holmes.” 

“I love flowers!” cried Gilda clasping her 
hands. “Everybody of Beige loved ze 
flowers. In my city we had one great garden 
in ze middle of ze railroad station, under ze 
glass roof. And along ze canals of Bruges 
it was like one long garden, sliding down into 
ze wasser. But war spoiled all ze gardens, 
and ze people who made zem.” Her face 
grew sad. 

It was then that they spied the figure of 
the old Indian woman approaching, with a 
great bag slung over her shoulder and a basket 
under one arm. 


102 


ROUND ROBIN 


“How?” she grunted, coming up to the 
piazza and setting down her burden. “You 
buy basket of old Sal? You promised.” Gilda 
was nearest her. 

“I haven’t money,” said Gilda. “I’m very 
poor.” 

“I haven’t much, either,” laughed Nancy. 
“But I’ll see. And I’ll call the other girls.” 
She disappeared to the Fairy Ring. 

“Let me see the baskets,” said Beverly. “I 
like baskets. I am trying to make one for 
my mother, but it is very hard.” 

Sal looked sharply at her. “You Indian?” 
she asked. Beverly laughed. 

“You haven’t forgotten, have you?” she 
said. “Pocahontas lived more than two hun- 
dred years ago. I am her descendant; part 
Indian.” 

Sal grunted. “Part Indian, all same In- 
dian. I give you baskets cheap.” And she 
began to spread out her wares on the floor; 
many hued baskets, moccasins, birch-bark 
frames and knick-knacks. 

“I will show you my basket,” said Beverly 
running into the cabin and bringing out a 


SAL SEGUIN 


103 


rather unsymmetrical shape which she was 
making of sweet-grass braid. Sal looked at it 
critically. “I show you better,” she said. And 
with strong, deft fingers she taught Beverly 
how to shape and strengthen the basket with 
a bit of willow to hold it firm. Not contented 
with this, Sal began a new basket of sweet 
grass, and showed Beverly how to start right. 

“Oh, thank you!” drawled Beverly, with 
the pretty manner that made everyone like 
her. “Now I must buy a nice basket of you, 
to show Mother how it really should be done.” 
She had already chosen one of the more ex- 
pensive baskets, with some bows and arrows 
for the Twins, and a little canoe for a small 
brother at home; when up came Nancy with 
Norma and Anne. The latter was in a rather 
bad humor. 

“I didn’t know you were dressing,” Nancy 
was apologizing. “I thought you might like 
to get some baskets.” 

“I don’t care about these baskets,” grumbled 
Anne, glancing scornfully at the display on 
the piazza floor. “Idlewild is full of them. 
They are quite ordinary; ugly colors. These 


104 


ROUND ROBIN 


traveling Indians never have anything decent. 
We can get a better choice in the store at 
home. Oh!” — she stooped and picked up a 
pair of moccasins in soft natural-grey sealskin 
— “These are really quite pretty. How much 
are they?” 

The squaw eyed her sulkily, then snatched 
back the moccasins with what would have been 
very bad manners in one who knew better. 
“Not for sale!” she cried. “You live in the 
big house over there?” she pointed towards 
the south, towards Idlewild. 

“Yes; my father Mr. Poole’s house is 
there,” assented Anne, wondering how the 
squaw knew. 

“Land of my tribe!” muttered Sal Seguin. 
“Bad man stole it off my people. Your father, 
bad man, got it off them. No luck to him! 
He drove me off his place one time. Would 
not let his people buy!” 

“Oh, I know,” Anne murmured aside to 
Norma. “We were having a party last year. 
They said an Indian wanted to come in, but 
of course Father would not let her bother 
everybody.” 


SAL SEGUIN 


105 


“Your father bad manP’ repeated Sal Se- 
guin. “I not forget!” 

Anne shrugged her shoulders airily. “Well, 
if that is all, I may as well go back and finish 
dressing. Thank you for calling me, Nancy!” 
and she walked away with a disagreeable 
swing. 

“Humph!” grunted the old Indian with a 
malicious leer. 

Each of the girls bought something. Even 
Gilda, whose pocket-money was very scarce 
indeed, purchased a tiny thimble-case for 
Xante. Norma departed with a photograph 
frame. Beverly had piled up quite a mound 
of souvenirs, saying they would make lovely 
Christmas presents. Sal packed the remain- 
ing things back in her sack. Last of all she 
took up the grey moccasins which Anne had 
liked. Then suddenly she turned to Beverly. 
“I give them to you,” she said. “You speak 
kind. You real Indian; big heart! Not like 
daughter of bad man.” 

“Oh, thank you!” Beverly took the little 
moccasins. “They are very pretty,” she said. 
“But I shall pay you.” 


106 


ROUND ROBIN 


“No pay. Humph F’ The old woman 
waved her hand in the air with a grand ges- 
ture. “My fathers owned all the land beyond 
and behind, rich Chiefs. My father big 
Chief. I am the last. But the white people 
go on forever. And some are bad. Not you! 
Humph!” 

Without another word she shouldered her 
pack and walked away. Down the path 
she disappeared. But presently through the 
branches of the trees they saw her paddling 
swiftly towards the South. 

“I wonder where she lives?” mused 
Beverly. “Poor old thing!” 

“Probably in the Indian Reservation at 
Oldtown,” said Nancy. 

“Wasn’t she good to give me these mocca- 
sins?” said Beverly, stroking the silvery skins 
thoughtfully. “I suppose it wouldn’t be fair 
to give them to Anne? But I can loan them 
to her while I’m here. I don’t want them. 
We don’t use such warm things in Vir- 
ginia. They are meant for you cold-blooded 
Northerners.” 

;^^“They have plenty of moccasins further 


SAL SEGUm 


107 


south, if you don’t have them in Virginia, 
Beverly,” said Nancy with a twinkle. “I’ve 
never been in your famous State, but I know 
Florida a little. And I had a funny time 
there once with a famous naturalist, about a 
moccasin. I don’t think I ought to tell his 
name, he is so very famous!” 

“Let’s hear the story, and perhaps we can 
guess,” said Beverly. 

“Was it when you were at that wonderful 
house-party with Tante?” asked Cicely. “Tell 
us about it, Nancy.” 

“Yes,” said Nancy chuckling. “You see, 
this famous naturalist was visiting there too; 
and the boys and girls loved to tease the old 
dear, who was awfully nice to us and didn’t 
seem to mind our jokes a bit. He was just 
crazy to see a moccasin-snake — that’s the very 
poisonous and very dangerous kind, you know. 
He wanted to put him in a book.” 

“Ugh!” shivered Gilda, much as old Sal 
might have done. “Put um in a book? What 
for zere, Nancy? I zink, in a trap is better!” 

“Zey are safe in a book,” laughed Nancy, 
imitating Gilda’s accent. “But not when zey 


108 


ROUND ROBIN 


crawl in ze grass, and squish in ze mud, and 
drop wiggling oft ze trees!’’ 

‘‘Stop, Nancy!” shrieked the girls in chorus. 

Nancy went on with the tale. “Uncle John 
had the worst luck! We boys and girls had 
all managed to see a moccasin somewhere. 
But though he got up early and kept awake 
late, hunting along the river and in under the 
live oaks, never a moccasin did he see. 

“Well, we were kind children; and we put 
our heads together to get the old man what 
he wanted. He must see that moccasin! So 
we fixed up a nice little scene for him. I 
went up to my bedroom and got one of my 
Indian moccasins — maybe Sal Seguin had 
made it. Anyway, I had brought it from here. 
It was a New England moccasin. And it was 
brownish, with grey fur around its neck. 
After dinner Jack — he was one of the boys — 
took the thing down to the river bank and 
planted it under a bush, pinning it down with 
a forked stick, the way they catch snakes. 
Then two of us girls joined him carelessly. 
For we saw Uncle John sitting on the piazza 
worrying because he hadn’t yet seen any moc- 


SAL SEGUIN 


109 


casin. Pretty soon both of us began to scream. 
Ethel ran away as if she were frightened to 
death, and I raced up to the house calling 
^Unclejohn! Uncle John! Oh, do come quick 
and see the moccasin! Jack has him pinned 
down. He^s quite safe. Quick!’ 

*‘You see, I didn’t say a word that wasn’t 
true. I was very careful about that. I knew 
how Uncle John hated nature-fakirs.” 

^^Nancy, what is a nature-fakir?” asked 
Cicely, who often had to have American 
words translated for her. 

nature-fakir? Why, he’s somebody who 
mixes up fact and fancy without calling it 
a fairy-story,” explained Nancy. ^^Uncle John 
says that isn’t playing fair.” 

should call those unfairy stories,” said 
Cicely. But the Club warned her with a howl 
that she was talking too much like Dick. 

^‘Well,” went on Nancy after this interrup- 
tion had been punished, “when Uncle John 
heard that word moccasin he scampered down 
the walk to the riverbank faster than any old 
man you ever saw! And as he ran he cried 


110 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘Don’t hurt him, Jack! Don’t bruise him! I 
want to see that moccasin alive, just as he is.’ 

“ ‘I’ve got him!’ cried Jack. ‘I’m holding 
him. I won’t hurt him. But hurry up!’ 

“As Uncle John drew near he caught sight 
of the grey fur around the top of the mocca- 
sin, for he has sharp eyes. ‘Gracious!’ said 
he, ‘That’s the queerest-looking snake I ever 
saw!’ Then as he came close he guessed what 
it was. ‘It’s a joke of that Nancy!’ he shouted. 
‘Wait till I catch her, the good-for-nothing 
girl!’ And he chased me all the way back 
to the house. But he couldn’t catch me!” 

4 

Nancy giggled at the memory of that chase. 

“You ought to have sent him a pair of 
moccasins to keep his feet warm,” suggested 
Beverly. I think you owed it to him, Nancy. 
It was mean to tease a great man so!” 

“It would have been mean if he had 
minded,” said Nancy. “But he was a great 
man every way; and he acted like a dear 
(about it. He loved to tell this story on him- 
self. I made a limerick about it. This is the 
way it goes : 


SAL SEGUIN 


111 


man with a hobby like Thoreau^s 
Once hunted the highways and furrows 
For a moccasin snake. 

What he found was a fake 
More frequent in bureaus than burrows/^ 

know who it was!” shouted Beverly. 
^‘You’ve told now! That great man! How 
dared you do it, Nancy? I call it disrespect- 
ful!” 

^^Sh!” warned Nancy. ^‘You mustn’t say 
his name, if the others can’t guess. Dear Uncle 
John ! It must have been the rebellious south- 
ern air that led me into mischief,” she an- 
swered Beverly’s reproach. 

‘What are you girls quarreling about?” de- 
manded Dick Reed, swinging himself onto 
the piazza. ‘What’s the joke?” 

“Only one of Nancy’s foolish stories, in 
which she is always the heroine,” drawled 
Beverly. 

“And a poem, which I do not understand,” 
said the bewildered Gilda. 

“Nobody ever understands a poet, except 


112 


ROUND ROBIN 


himself. Isn’t that so, Nancy?” Dick teased 
her. 

“Nancy’s poetry is usually very easy to 
understand,” said Cicely loyally. “But this 
has some kind of joke in it. They say we 
English aren’t quick at jokes.” 

“I say,” said Dick interrupting, “the old 
witch has been here, hasn’t she?” He pointed 
at the pile of baskets at Beverly’s feet. “I saw 
her down along the shore. She looked cross 
enough and was muttering at a great rate. 
I’d hate to have her down on me.” 

“She is down on Anne, then,” said Beverly, 
and told Dick what had happened. 

“Well, you couldn’t blame Anne for feeling 
hurt at having her father called a bad man,” 
Dick defended the absent lady, like a knight- 
errant. “Is he a bad man, Nancy?” 

“How do I know?” said she. “I only know 
people don’t like him here.” And I think he 
is not very kind to Anne; though she won’t 
say so.” 

“Shi Here comes Anne!” whispered 
Beverly. “Goodness, what style I” Anne ap- 
peared from her tent, white-gowned, with 


SAL SEGUm 


113 


gloves on her hands, and a parasol over her 
head. 

“Anne ! I never saw a parasol in camp be- 
fore!” exclaimed Nancy. “And as for gloves, 
— ^we use them only in the vegetable garden, 
shaking hands with the weeds.” 

Anne deigned no reply to this sally. 
“Norma said she would like to go with me 
to see Idlewild this afternoon,” she said. “If 
anyone else wants to come, I should be glad 
to have you. I haven’t the keys, but we can 
see a good deal outside the house.” 

“But why these clothes?” gasped Nancy. 

“I haven’t dressed for a week,” said Anne. 
“I like to feel respectable once in a while. 
Khaki doesn’t seem to belong at Idlewild. But 
of course, if you don’t mind ” 

“Cap’n Sackett has the keys,” volunteered 
Dick. “You might call on him.” 

“Why, I’d like to go with you, Anne,” said 
Cicely. 

“So would I,” agreed Nancy and Beverly. 

“And I,” added Gilda. “Here comes 
Norma.” 

Dick had an errand elsewhere. “I say!” 


114 


ROUND ROBIN 


he whispered to Nancy, as the girls started 
for the walk along the shore, ‘‘the Golden Girl 
is going to get a surprise when she sees the 
palace of the king her father!” 

“Why, Dick?” asked Nancy. But Reddy 
would not tell her. 


CHAPTER VIII 


IDLEWILD 

T he first part of the way to Idlewild was 
unfamiliar to Anne.- Apparently she 
had never walked far on the foot-path 
around her father’s place. But as they ap- 
proached the end of the mile walk she grew 
more animated. She remembered this point 
of rocks, that tree, this cliff above the surf. 
And when finally they came to the solid and 
substantial wall which Mr. Poole had built 
to separate his land from mere pasture, her 
spirits rose greatly. 

They climbed the pretty stile, “quite Eng- 
lish,” as Cicely said. Then Anne became the 
Golden Girl once more, and began to show 
the others about with an air of importance. 

“These are the steps leading down to the 
landing pier where Father usually keeps our 
yacht,” she announced. “It’s no use going 

115 


116 


ROUND ROBIN 


down now, for the Day Dream isn’t in com- 
mission this summer. This is the path to the 
house. Isn’t it pretty, and easy to walk on, 
it’s so nicely gravelled? See these beautiful 
lawns! Father had the underbrush cleared 
away and all tidied up. It cost a great deal 
of money to start the sods, I heard him say. 
Grass doesn’t like to grow on these rocks. But 
he made it!” 

“I think the wild tangle that we have passed 
through is lovely,” said Cicely. ^‘The under- 
brush in New England is always a surprise 
to me. We have lawns and trimmed trees in 
England, of course. But we don’t see any- 
thing wild like this.” 

‘Well, anybody can have a wild place 
around here,” said Anne loftily. “Father 
made this to be different. He copied some- 
body’s place in Italy, I believe.” 

“Yes, here’s an Italian pergola,” said 
Norma. “And here’s a brick terrace. That’s 
Italian too.” 

There was a neglected tennis-court on the 
lawn in front of the garage; and a sunken 
garden, dried up and weedy. Anne looked 


IDLEWILD 


117 


at the flower-beds in surprise and some mor- 
tification. 

“Why, how badly the garden looks!” she 
exclaimed. “I thought Father always left 
somebody to take care of the place until we 
came again. But this looks as if nobody had 
been near it since last summer.” 

“It would take more than one man to keep 
this big place in order,” said Cicely, who knew 
about such things. 

“Oh, yes! Father employed three gar- 
deners,” said Anne, “and I don’t know how 
many other men. I shall write him they aren’t 
doing their duty. He will be very angry when 
he knows. He can’t bear to see things out 
of order.” Anne remembered more than one 
exhibition of her father’s bad temper. 

They were walking along the neat paths on 
top of the cliff, in front of the great house 
with its shuttered windows. The dead leaves 
of last fall lay brown on the unraked lawns. 
The wind had blown and torn the bushes here 
and there. Everything looked forlorn and 
unhappy. Anne grew more and more uneasy, 
even as she pointed out the elaborate arrange- 


118 


ROUND ROBIN 


ments of the place; the big garage, the water 
tower, the lighting plant, the ice house, the 
stable where her pony had been kept. Anne 
did not know where he was now; perhaps in 
Canada. 

Presently they came to a low house with 
wire pens adjacent. “This was the chicken 
house,” said Anne. “We had pigeons and 
rabbits, too. But the hutches are all empty. 
Why, I wonder what has become of my white 
rabbit? I had a lovely one named Plon. 
Those dreadful servants have not taken care 
of him!” 

“Perhaps your father did not intend to keep 
the place,” suggested Norma. “It looks — 
well, finished.” 

“I’m sure he is coming down another sum- 
mer,” said Anne quickly. “It is only this 
year he had to go away on business, he said. 
It is the fault of the caretakers that the place 
looks so badly.” 

“Why, here is one leetle garden growing 
nicely as can be!” cried Gilda, who had been 
exploring by herself. “See, ze roses arc all 
in ze bud!” 


IDLEWILD 


119 


is my own little garden!” cried Anne, 
running to where Gilda stood. was afraid 
to visit it, for fear it would be dead. I have 
taken care of it all myself for ever so many 
summers, ever since I was a tiny tot. I never 
let anyone else weed it. And here is my herb 
garden behind it; but that does not look so 
well.” 

‘‘I didn’t know you ever worked, Anne,” 
said Nancy innocently, ‘‘even in a garden.” 

“Work in a garden is only play,” said Anne. 

“We will remember that!” chorused the 
Round Robin. “Our vegetable garden never 
gets half enough attention,” explained Nancy. 
“We’ll introduce you to-morrow!” But Anne 
was bending over the little plot she called her 
garden, fingering the plants lovingly. “Rose- 
bushes, mignonette, poppies, morning glories, 
sweet william, iris were all in bud, nicely 
weeded and trimmed. It was like a little oasis 
in a desert of desolation. 

“I don’t understand why this looks so well, 
when everything else is neglected,” said Anne, 
greatly puzzled. “It certainly seems as if 
somebody had been tending it. Whoever it 


120 


ROUND ROBIN 


is, I wish he had looked after my pets too. 
I’m afraid the poor things are all dead!” 

^‘Maybe zey went away to be wild rabbits 
again,” suggested Gilda sympathetically. 
^‘Zere are wild rabbits here. I saw one yester- 
day.” 

^‘Oh, did you? What was he like?” Anne 
was all eagerness. But it was a little brown 
bunny which Gilda had spied in the woods; 
not the big white Plon. 

The girls went up on the piazza of the great 
house, trying to imagine how the interior 
would look when the windows and doors were 
open. “The hammocks always hung here,” 
explained Anne. “And we had afternoon tea 
in this corner when the screens were up. This 
is the glassed-in breakfast room. You can’t 
see it now because of the shutters. My rooms 
are above it, there. I have three all to myself, 
done in pale blue. Not much like camp, is 
it?” She smiled complacently. “Though I 
do like a tent, really,” she confessed. “I shall 
ask father to build me a sleeping-porch next 
season.” 

“But don’t you like trees close by, as we 


IDLEWILD 


m 

have at Round Robin?” asked Nancy. “Mr. 
Poole must have cut off a lot of trees from 
this place. It seems bare to me.” 

“Yes,” said Anne, “they cut off the trees 
to make a better view. I remember Father 
said so. I had forgotten it was quite so bare 
around the house.” She looked about with 
new eyes, used to the sifted sun and shade of 
the intimate woods. “But what a wonderful 
thing it was that Father could turn this 
scraggy old New England pasture into such 
a foreign-looking place! Our friends who 
visited here called Father a magician.” 

“Plain American is good enough for me!” 
said Nancy. “I like it the way we have at 
Round Robin, cosy and simple.” 

“Well!” said Anne abruptly. “Let’s not 
stay any longer. It makes me homesick to 
see the place so.” She did indeed look dis- 
appointed and sad. The place was not so im- 
posing as she had remembered. The girls 
were not so greatly impressed as she had hoped 
they would be. 

“I’ll tell you what!” suggested Nancy. 


122 


ROUND ROBIN 


“Let’s go and see Nelly’s home. It’s only a 
little way from here.” 

“All right!” the Club was ready. But Anne 
objected. “Oh! I’m too tired,” she said. “I’d 
rather go right home.” 

“Oh, come on! It’s such a little way,” urged 
Nancy. “Cap’n Sackett wants to see you, I 
know, Anne. He is always talking about you, 
and how you used to come down often when 
you were a tiny tot.” 

“Why don’t you care to go there any more?” 
asked Norma bluntly. “I should, if anybody 
wanted to see me so much.” 

“Oh, I don’t know,” Anne hesitated. “When 
I was little there seemed plenty of time. But 
now it is different. There is always so much 
going on at Idlewild — riding and driving and 
tennis and golf and company and yachting 
parties. But I did go down once every sum- 
mer. Father made me.” 

“Well, to-day will make at least once this 
summer; and there’s no time like the present,” 
urged Nancy. “Nelly will never forgive us 
if she hears we were so near and did not go 
a little further to see her. But if you like, you 


IDLEWILD 


123 


could wait here for us to pick you up on the 
way back, Anne.” 

“No, I will go too,” said Anne, who had 
no mind to wait in the lonesomeness of Idle- 
wild. 

It was less than half a mile from Idlewild 
to the Cove, across Mr. Poole’s well laid-out 
golf links. This too showed the lack of care. 
Already the trespassing weeds and lawless 
grasses were taking advantage of the generous 
July sun to riot and grow bold. The unkempt 
green was really no less beautiful; but it 
shocked Anne. 

“I shall write Father to-night,” she re- 
peated. “It is dreadful!” 


CHAPTER IX 


NELLY SACKETTS HOME 

O VER another stile in the handsome wall 
clambered the Round Robin, and the 
girls found themselves in simple pas- 
ture-land once more. This was land that 
Captain Sackett would not sell to the rich man 
who had wanted to own and enclose for his 
sole pleasure the whole shore line from the 
Harbor to Camp Round Robin. The little path 
was almost lost in a tangle of blueberry bushes, 
juniper and sweet fern, where the wild roses 
were already in bud. But it led inevitably 
to the Cove at the head of which stood the 
old white house. 

“What rough walking!” grumbled Anne, 
holding up her white skirt and picking her 
way between the briars. “Not much like 
Father’s nice path.” 

“It is the old Indian trail,” said Nancy. 

124 


NELLY SACKETT’S HOME 


125 


“Once it was all like this along the shore to 
our place and beyond, so Mother says. That 
was fifteen years ago, before any of us were 
born.” 

They spied Captain Sackett at a distance, 
hammering at some new lobster-pots on the 
beach in front of his house. His motor-boat 
was anchored a little way out in the water, 
and an old dory was drawn up on the beach. 
“Let’s give the yell and surprise him,” said 
Nancy. 

“Heia! Hoia! Together! Round Robin!” 
hailed the Club; Anne alone standing silent. 
The old man straightened up, glanced about, 
then whirled his hat in the air, shouting in 
return : 

“Hi there! Hi yourselves!” 

All the girls but Anne raced up and danced 
around him in a merry ring, hand in hand. 

“Glad to see ye, glad to see ye!” he cried. 
“Hello! There’s another one cornin’ along. 
Why, it’s Anne, ain’t it? I thought so!” A 
glow of pleasure lit up his weather-beaten 
face as Anne walked slowly in his direction, 
and he advanced to take her not-too-ready 


126 


ROUND ROBIN 


hand. ^‘Why, how you’ve grown!” he said 
delightedly. ^‘And how fine you’re dressed! 
Cornin’ to make a call? Come right up to 
the house, the hull of ye, and see Aunt Polly. 
She and Nelly will be tickled to death to see 
ye all.” 

Nothing loth, the Club raced up the path 
to the house with its trim lilac bushes on either 
side of the door. Aunt Polly, plump and 
motherly, was waiting for them, with Nelly 
grinning over her shoulder. 

“Come in! Come in!” said Aunt Polly 
hospitably. “I’m right glad to see you. I’ve 
been expecting you before this; but we know 
how fast the time goes with young folks who 
have so many nice things to do. Now, isn’t 
it lucky I’ve just made some fresh cookies? 
Nelly, you run into the pantry and bring a 
pan of those cookies for the girls.” 

Off scampered Nelly. And the girls fol- 
lowed Aunt Polly through the spick-and-span 
kitchen into the sitting room. It was a dear 
little room. About the walls were old- 
fashioned pictures of ships and shipwrecks. 
On the mantel and what-nots were curious 


NELLY SACKETT’S HOME 


1«7 


shells and branches of coral, bits of carving 
and queer treasures that the Captain had 
picked up in his many voyages. Great bowls 
of nasturtiums stood on the table and on the 
top of the little parlor organ. There were 
shelves of books between the windows, and 
books lay about here and there. The walls 
looked pleased, like the walls of a room in 
which people read aloud. 

^‘Here’s Anne, Polly!” said Cap’n Sackett, 
calling his sister’s attention to the last of the 
party who came in while the cookies were be- 
ing passed. He spoke gravely, and Aunt 
Polly as gravely replied, turning to greet the 
girl. 

“Why Anne! How do you do, my dear?” 
Nelly’s mother gazed at Anne as the old man 
had done, with an eagerness that seemed to 
embarrass her. “Well, how you have grown 
this year!” continued Aunt Polly softly. “I 
suppose I ought to call you Miss Poole, 
now you are almost a young lady. But it 
doesn’t come natural.” 

“It really doesn’t matter what you call me,” 
said Anne pertly. “I’m just a member of the 


128 


ROUND ROBIN 


Round Robin this summer. Next summer it 
will be different, perhaps.” 

^‘What do you hear from your F , from 

Mr. Poole?” Cap’n Sackett questioned Anne, 
while Polly and Nelly chattered to the others. 
Anne bit her lip; but she answered almost 
in spite of herself, it seemed. 

haven’t heard from Father since I came. 
He’s a poor correspondent. Mother says.” 

“I guess I know that!” The old man shook 
his head understandingly. ^T’ve known him 
nearly twenty years, Anne, for better, for 
worse. How’s the baby?” 

“He was well when I left Chicago,” an- 
swered Anne shortly. 

“Father’s in Canady, ain’t he?” inquired 
the Captain. “Not cornin’ down this sum- 
mer, no?” 

“No,” said Anne. “And I shall write him 
about Idlewild. He will be very angry when 
he hears how badly the place looks.” 

The Captain glanced at Anne out of the 
corner of his eye. “Why, I’ve been up there 
now and again,” he said slowly. “He told me 
to keep an eye on the place, and I have. I 


NELLY SACKETT’S HOME 


129 


thought it looked all right enough, for an 
empty place — kinder lonesome, of course; but 
you can’t help that.” He saw the girl wince 
at the word ^^onesome.” 

“It looks horrid,” insisted Anne. 

“It’s a big barn of a place,” agreed the Cap- 
tain. “Not so homy as this old shack of mine, 
now I’ve got Nelly and her mother here. Say, 
you used to like the Cove here pretty well 
once, Anne. Do you remember?” 

Anne glanced around the simple room with 
the ornaments that she remembered very well 
from visits in her earliest childhood. “It 
seems a long time ago,” she said. The old 
man sighed. 

“A long time ago !” he repeated. “Though 
you aren’t so very old, Anne. I wish you’d 
come oftener, like you used to do. Maybe you 
will this summer, now you are with these 
other folks? They are real neighborly.” 

Anne hastened to change the subject. “The 
only thing that looks right at Idlewild is my 
little garden,” she said. “It really seems as 
if somebody had been taking care of it.” The 
Captain grinned. 


130 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘Well, I kept an eye on that too,” he con- 
fessed. “Nelly helped me weed it. We two 
couldn’t manage the whole big garden, of 
course. But we thought the little one looked 
so lonesome there by itself, we had to fix it 
up. It does look good, don’t it? Those mig- 
nonettes are cornin’ on fine!” 

“Oh, thank you!” said Anne simply. “It 
was nice of Nelly to take that trouble for my 
garden.” 

Nelly came over to where Anne was sitting 
and smiled at her rather wistfully. “Don’t 
you want to come out and see the rabbits?” 
she asked. “They are in a pen behind the 
house.” 

“Rabbits!” Anne exclaimed. “I love rab- 
bits.” 

“You know these rabbits, too,” smiled 
Nelly. “They belonged to Mr. Poole. Uncle 
saved them.” The three were making their 
way around to the back of the house where 
the animals lived. 

“When the critters were sold,” explained 
the Captain rubbing his hands, “I just bought 
in these rabbits, as well as the chickens. I 


NELLY SACKETT’S HOME 


131 


thought it would please you, Anne, and I liked 
the little fellers, too. The big white one is 
right cute.” 

“Oh, that’s Plon!” cried Anne, delighted. 
“You dear old thing! I am so glad you are 
safe!” She took the rabbit up in her arms 
and hugged him rapturously. 

“He knows you, all right!” chuckled the 
Captain. “You can take him back with you, 
if you want to.” 

“Oh, no, I am afraid he would be lone- 
some,” sighed Anne. 

“Then you must come often to see him 
here,” said Nelly Sackett eagerly. 

“Yes. I will.” Anne hugged the rabbit 
closer, while she smiled upon the old man and 
his niece for the first time that day. ^ 

“I wish I could have saved the pony for 
you too, Anne,” said the Captain. “But he 
cost too much. I’m not rich, you know.” 

“The pony was growing old and cross,” 
confided Anne. “I didn’t love him as I do 
Plon. But why were the animals sold? I 
don’t understand!” 

The Captain shook his head. “Orders,” he 


132 


ROUND ROBIN 


said, ‘‘Mr. Poole’s orders. His agent sold 
everything about the place, furniture and all.” 

“The furniture!” Anne stared. “Then the 
house is quite bare inside?” 

The Captain nodded. The other girls who 
had been roaming about the house examining 
the Captain’s treasures now came running out 
to ask questions. “Oh, Captain! What’s this 
big tooth with pictures on it?” asked Beverly 
holding up an engraved ivory cone. 

, “That’s a whale’s tooth,” said the Captain, 
“tattooed out in China. And that’s a sword- 
fish’s sword,” he answered Gilda’s question 
about the strange natural weapon she was car- 
rying. 

“Oh, won’t you tell about this, please?” 
begged Norma, holding out a bottle in which 
was a tiny ship with all sails set. She had 
found it on the mantel-shelf among the other 
treasures. 

“Yes, tell them about that ship, Eph,” urged 
Aunt Polly who had followed them into the 
door-yard. “That is a good story.” 

“How did ze tall ship go into ze leetle bot- 


NELLY SACKETT’S HOME 


133 


tie?” asked Gilda in amazement. don’t 
know!” 

yes, Cap’n!” pleaded Nancy. ‘‘Do tell 
that story. Have you heard it, Anne?” 

Anne shook her head. “I’ve heard a lot 
of the Captain’s stories, but never that one,” 
she said. 

“Oh, I dunno about tellin’ that story,” pro- 
tested the Captain. “It wa’n’t anything.” 

“That was a copy of the ship he saved,’”’ 
interpolated Aunt Polly. “They had it made 
for him, those Portygees. Ain’t it cute? I 
don’t see how they ever got it into the bottle, 
as the little foreign girl says.” 

“Did he save a ship?” asked Anne with 
round eyes, hugging the rabbit. 

“More than one!” chuckled Aunt Polly. 
“Ask anybody in this county. But that was 
the best one. Eph was a real hero, everybody 
says. He’s a real hero still, for that matter, 
isn’t he, Nelly? Once a hero, always a hero, 
that’s what I say!” 

“Oh nonsense, Polly!” exclaimed Cap’n 
Sackett testily. “You hadn’t ought to talk 
such foolishness to these girls. Now young 


-134 


ROUND ROBIN 


Victor Lanfranc, down to your camp, he is 
a real hero. He got wounded ’way up in the 
air over the German lines, that young Frenchy 
did. He bombed the factory where they made 
their wicked guns; and he got a medal for it. 
I admire that lad! I never got nothin’ but 
a salt water duckin’. He! He!” Captain 
Sackett gave a merry little chuckle. 

^‘You ought to have had a medal,” insisted 
Aunt Polly. 

^^Oh, you must tell us about it!” begged the 
girls in chorus. ^^Heia! Hoia!” 

“Now, please begin,” commanded Nancy. 

They all sat down on the grass, Anne still 
clasping Plon in her arms, and listened breath- 
less to the Captain’s story, which he told while 
he whittled at a wooden peg. 


CHAPTER X 


A REAL HERO 

I DON’T think it’s worth tellin’,’’ pro- 
tested the Captain again. But as they 
would not take no for an answer, he be- 
gan in his droll way. 

“It happened before any of you were born,” 
said he, “when I was captain of a little 
schooner named The Anna. That was my 
wife’s name, and my little daughter’s after 
her. I had just been married, and was home 
for a little vacation. That summer there was 
a lot of terrible storms off this coast. If you’ve 
ever seen a stoxm on this bay, girls, you can 
guess what it’s like in the winter. Our rocks 
are cruel hard and sly. They hide under the 
waves there like giants’ teeth ready to chew 
up the little boats. 

“Well, there was a little schooner from 

135 


136 


ROUND ROBIN 


Portygal that had got off her course, and the 
storm blew her in here. She beat in to what 
looked like a safe harbor out of the storm. 
But out there on the Washers she struck the 
reef, hard. In a jiffy the schooner was all 
stove up into kindlin’s; but the men managed 
to cling to a spar and drifted onto what seemed 
to them a little island. They climbed up into 
what looked like safety, though it was mighty 
damp, for it was low tide at the time. But 
that island is one of the Washers, and is 
covered at high tide with ten foot of roarin’ 
green water. They was all pretty nigh 
drownded already; and while they clung to 
the rocks two more of the men were swept 
away by big waves. They didn’t guess it, but 
full tide was bound to get ’em all. 

^‘Now, I was lookin’ out of this front win- 
dow with my spyglass, same as I always did 
in a storm, when I was ashore. And I sighted 
through the rain somethin’ black out on the 
Washers. ^Gorry! It’s men!’ I says to Anna. 
^There’s men out on the Washers 1 Must have 
been a wreck. Must try to get ’em off in the 
double-quick. ’Course, they had to be got 


A REAL HERO 


137 


off,’’ the Captain paused, already on the 
defence. 

“That was just like Eph!” Aunt Polly in- 
terrupted. “Somebody had to do it; so he did. 
He never waited for ^George’ or anybody else 
to do it. He tried to get some fellers to go 
out with him; but they said No good in that 
storm. It was sure drowning. They told him 
he would have to give it up. But Eph he 
would go! Not even Anna could keep him, 
and they just married! She told me after- 
wards how she begged and prayed him to stay 
for her sake. But he said for her sake he 
coudn’t let ’em drown; she’d never forget it 
if he did. Eph’s so obstinate!” Aunt Polly 
gazed at the Captain with affectionate admira- 
tion. He pretended to be angry at her inter^i 
ruption. 

“You let me tell this here story, will ye?” 
he growled, whittling with redoubled vigor. 
“Well, you see, as Polly says, somebody had 
to go out and get those men. Of course I went. 
Hadn’t I been the first one to see their danger? 
The Lord had showed ’em to me. Ye can’t 
wish His job onto anyone else. Ye must take 


138 


ROUND ROBIN 


it yourself, when He hands it to ye. That is 
all there is to it. 

^‘Well, I put the old dory into the surf; 
I kinder thought she’d see me through. The 
fellers helped me — that was tough work! I 
thought we’d never get over the rollers. But 
well — I did get out to the rocks somehow, 
and somehow I brought back four of the men 
— four Portygees who couldn’t speak a word 
of English. Tickledest men I ever saw! For 
I didn’t get to ’em a mite too soon. The waves 
were creepin’ mighty close. Two of the poor 
chaps had been washed off already. I always 
felt kind of guilty about those two. Seems 
as if I had hurried a little more; if I hadn’t 
stopped to put on my sou’wester and boots, 
I might have saved ’em all. Those two 
drownded men kind of ha’nt me, sometimes.” 

^‘The ideal” again interpolated Aunt Polly. 
‘Tt was a sheer miracle you saved any of them 
and got back alive. Everybody said so.” 

The Captain calmly ignored her remark 
and went on with a chuckle. ^‘You oughter 
! seen this shore the next few days! The Por- 
tygee schooner was freighted with oranges 


A REAL HERO 


139 


and lemons and pineapples and olives and oil, 
— queer things like that. The rocks were 
covered with yaller splotches and dabs, like 
paint the artist-folks daub all over the cliffs 
in the summer time. I guess they get mad 
with their paint-boxes and tip ’em over out 
of spite! Well, the waves were all shiny with 
oil, and we had pies for dinner and lemonade, 
till we were sick of ’em. Anna and I had 
our first taste of olives. I’ll never forget what 
a face she made at the queer flavor of ’em! 
It was funny to hear the Portygees tryin’ to 
thank us in their lingo and make us a present 
of all the stuff we could save from the sea. 
They were so grateful.’^ 

should think they might have been!” 
cried Norma enthusiastically. ^Why, you’d 
risked your life for them, like a story-book 
hero!” 

‘They lived on Eph for a week,” added 
Aunt Polly. “I don’t see where he stowed 
them all. Foreigners too! I guess he was 
good to them; just as good as if they had been 
American.” 

^‘Well, why shouldn’t I be?” asked the Cap- 


140 


ROUND ROBIN 


tain. ^‘They were humans, weren’t they? 
Everybody’s neighbors in this world. For all 
I know, those Portygees are Americans now. 
Two of ’em said they were goin’ to settle in 
the West some day.” 

^'Oh, Captain! I am so proud of you!” 
Beverly’s eyes shone. 

“Nonsense! It wa’n’t anything, I tell ye!” 
blustered Cap’n Sackett, turning red. “It was 
about that boat in the bottle you wanted to 
hear? Well it is kinder cute, ain’t it? One 
of the Portygee sailors sent it to me after he 
got back to his own land. He carved the little 
boat himself, and made all the sails and rig- 
gin’. But I dunno how ever he got it into 
that little narrow-necked bottle. It beats me! 
Those furriners are cuter than we about som.e 
things.” 

“Eph was about dead when they all got 
ashore,” Aunt Polly added to the story. “He 
never was so husky afterwards. Anna wrote 
me she had to rub him half the night to get 
him limbered up. But he kept telling her 
to look after the poor foreign sailors, who 
couldn’t speak a word of English. Eph 


A REAL HERO 


141 


seemed to think that was the pitifulest part 
of it all.’’ 

^Wal, I guess it was!” drawled the Captain. 
^^Everybody ought to learn to talk English — 
eh, Gilda?” 

The girls listened open-mouthed to the 
story which none of them had ever heard be- 
fore. It was not an unusual tale, perhaps ; they 
may have read something like it. But to think 
that this was true, and that it had happened 
right out on these very rocks which they could 
see this minute, and that this old man, their 
friend, was the real hero of it! Anne, sitting 
with the rabbit in her lap, soon forgot even 
Plon. As the story went on her cheeks grew 
red and her eyes grew bright. It seemed as 
if she were acting out the story, too. When 
Cap’n Sackett stopped abruptly, she gave a 
gasp. 

^^Oh!” she cried. ^^How splendid! What 
next?” 

The Captain glanced at her as if he were 
more pleased by this word than by anything 
else. Was it just because she was the Golden 
Girl? That did not seem like Cap’n Sackett. 


142 


ROUND ROBIN 


*^You like to hear about the sea, don’t ye, 
Anne?” he said gently. “Used to when 
ye were a little kid. You ask Vhat next?’ 
Why, there wasn’t any ^next’ to speak of. I 
just went on sailin’, till I got sick. Then I 
lay-to a spell, here in the house my father 
built. He was a captain too; and so were 
his father and grandfather before him. But 
when a man gets rheumatiz he can’t command 
a ship any more. Too much depends on the 
captain. But I could ketch fish off and on. 
That’s what I did for a good many years be- 
fore we had motor-boats to make it easier. It 
hasn’t been a kid-glove life, Anne. But I have 
kinder liked it.” 

“What a pity you didn’t have a lot of little 
boys and girls to tell stories to!” exclaimed 
Norma with warm enthusiasm. “You make 
it so interesting.” The Captain’s face clouded. 

“Ain’t it a pity?” he said. “I did have one 
little girl named Anna.” He gulped and then 
said with a gentle smile, “And now there’s 
Nelly,” he laid his hand affectionately on his 
niece’s red curls. 

“He’s been so good to us,” said Aunt Polly, ' 


A REAL HERO 


143 


^^After Nelly’s father died three years ago, 
he brought Nelly and me right home and 
treated us as if we were his own.” 

^‘Well, ain’t ye my own?” chuckled Cap’n 
Sackett. ^‘My own brother’s wife and child. 
I dunno how I ever got along without ye. 
You make this a home once more.” There- 
upon Aunt Polly scuttled away into the next 
room, wiping her eyes on a corner of her 
apron. 

^‘Let’s go home by the road; it’s shorter,” 
suggested Nancy, when they had said good- 
bye. ‘‘We don’t need to go through Mr. 
Poole’s place at all. He mightn’t like us to 
trespass,” she smiled mischievously at Anne. 

“Yes. Let’s go by the road,” agreed Anne. 
“I don’t want to see Idlewild again this sum- 
mer. It is too lonesome.” 

“I suppose I oughtn’t to have said that 
about the Captain’s children,” said Norma 
contritely. “Is there something very sad 
about it, Nancy? I could have cut out my 
tongue as soon as I had spoken. I’m always 
saying the wrong thing!” 

“Mamma says the Captain has had the sad- 


144 


ROUND ROBIN 


dest life,” answered Nancy, ^‘though he is so 
cheerful, the most popular man in the town- 
ship. All his neighbors are always coming to 
him with their troubles. You see, his daughter 
and her husband were killed in an automobile 
accident. It nearly broke his heart, for he 
worshiped Anna. Then, the very next spring, 
his own wife died. His brother and Aunt 
Polly were living twenty miles away at the 
time. He went on a long voyage; but that 
was the last. He must have been all alone 
for years. Wasn’t it sad?” 

“He is an old dear!” declared Beverly. “He 
seems to admire you, Anne. You ought to be 
mighty pleased about it.” 

“Yes, I’m jealous!” cried Norma. “He will 
never like me again.” 

“Don’t be silly,” said Anne stiffly, and she 
walked on ahead. 

“He is wonderful!” was Cicely’s comment. 
“He seems like the kind of big brave men 
who founded America. I’m glad they are not 
all in books. Nelly ought to be proud of her 
uncle.” 


A REAL HERO 


145 


guess she is,’’ said Nancy. “Only it’s not 
the Yankee way to show it. I know.” 

Anne walked on in silence; then she said 
rather suddenly. “It’s queer! When he told 
that story, I felt as if I had been there! It 
must be wonderful to be a sailor. If I were 
a man, that’s what I’d like to be.” This 
sounded so little like the Golden Girl that 
they all stared, then began to laugh. 

“It’s because your father is a fancy yachts- 
man,” said Nancy. 

Anne looked at her over her shoulder. 
“That isn’t the same thing, as you very well 
know!” she declared. “Yachting is only a 
game. You don’t have to be brave to do that 
kind of thing. Somebody else does it for you. 
Captain Sackett is different! He is the first 
real hero I ever met; but he is just a com- 
mon man.” 

“Mother says the biggest people in the 
world have seemed simple men,” said Nancy 
gravely. “Even Abraham Lincoln. Or even 
the Greatest One of all.” 


CHAPTER XI 

THE EAGLE’S NEST 

A FORTNIGHT went by, and ‘^the Ten- 
derfeet,” as Dick called the newer 
campers, were growing used to camp 
ways which had seemed queer and hard to 
some of them at first. In all that time Anne 
received no letter from her father. But one 
day Tante did: She did not tell Anne this, 
but put the letter in her apron pocket and 
carried it to her favorite spot in the woods 
to read by herself. 

The letter was dated from a place in 
Canada, and was signed by Mr. Poole. There 
were some mysterious words among the plain 
business matters mentioned in the letter. Mr. 
Poole was writing about the money to be paid 
for Anne’s summer expenses at the camp. ^Tt 
is a crisis with me,” he wrote. “You’ll under- 

146 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


147 


stand before long, I guess. ITl be glad if 
you will keep Anne as long as you can; then 
ITl have to do something, I don’t know what. 
I can’t write to her, and my wife is all bound 
up in our little baby, of course. You can’t 
expect much of her. She isn’t very strong, 
and of course Baby has first claim on us. That 
word 'claim' makes me sick anyway! I’ve got 
to harden my heart to everybody. You’ll soon 
know what I mean.” 

“What can the man mean?” thought Xante, 
fingering this strange letter. “Harden his 
heart! I should say it must be hard as granite 
already! Poor little Anne. She is worrying 
because she does not hear from him. But 
letters like this don’t make one happy. We 
must help her to have as good a time as pos- 
sible this summer.” 

Xante went straight to the Fairy Ring 
where Anne was making up a second cot bed, 
her own being already properly finished. Her 
eyes were red. And when Xante appeared in 
the tent opening Anne hastily brushed a tear 
with her khaki sleeve. “I’m making Beverly’s 
bed,” she said, trying to appear careless. “She 


148 


ROUND ROBIN 


made mine yesterday, without my asking her. 
Beverly is very nice.’’ 

“I hear you girls are going for a climb 
to-day,” said Tante smiling approval. “It’s 
a lovely day for it, and the Eagle’s Nest is 
not very far.” 

“I can climb all right,” said Anne. “But 
I’ve got letters to write. Tante, why do you 
suppose I don’t hear from my father?” she 
cried suddenly, showing what the trouble was 
that made her eyes red and the tears ready 
to start. 

“There might be many reasons,” said Tante 
soothingly. “But whatever they are, you 
mustn’t worry. You must get all the sunshine 
you can out of this golden summer. You had 
better go with the girls on this nice trip.” 

“Something has happened to Father,” said 
Anne uneasily. “I have suspected for some 
time that things weren’t going right. He 
seems so different. It isn’t like him to sell 
the animals, even Plon and the old pony.” 

“You must be a brave girl,” said Tante, 
putting her arms around Anne’s shoulders. “If 
anything happens, we will all stand by, Anne. 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


149 


Friends do help when they get together as 
we try to do at Round Robin.” 

‘The girls are all right,” said Anne. “If 
you say so, I will go with them. And I should 
like to see an eagle’s nest.” 

That’s right! I have put up a luncheon 
for you already,” said Tante. “I was sure 
you would go.” 

Anne straightened her shoulders and hur- 
ried away to get ready for the climb. Pres- 
ently she joined the brown group in broad 
hats and with business-like knapsacks strapped 
to their shoulders, who were gathered at the 
back of the camp. The girls were going alone 
this once. For Hugh and Victor were away 
for a three-days’ camping trip in the deep 
woods, and Dick, excused from studies for 
that time, was acting as Camp Protector in 
their absence. 

“Be sure you keep together and follow your 
leader,” Tante charged them as she waved 
good-bye. 

“Who is the leader?” asked Anne of Beverly 
Peyton, who was waiting for her at the end 


150 


ROUND ROBIN 


of the line. ^Why, Nelly Sackett, of course. 
She knows the way better than anybody.” 

didn’t know she was going!” said Anne, 
hanging back. She felt not unfriendly to 
Nelly. But she could not get used to the idea 
of this freckled country girl as a leader in her 
Club. Anne liked to be a leader herself, or 
to choose whom she would follow. 

“Tante would not let us go without Nelly,” 
said Beverly. ^‘None of the others have been 
over the trail this season, not even Nancy. But 
Tante said we might go if we would be very 
careful.” 

^‘Of course,” said Anne, reluctantly follow- 
ing in Beverly’s footsteps. She was ashamed 
to explain how she felt, and why she hated 
to be at the end of the procession that Nelly 
led. 

The eagle’s nest was on the small mountain 
that lay at the back of the camp, about two 
miles distant. The nest was a secret that Cajv 
tain Sackett had discovered years before, 
when he was a little boy. How long it had 
been there before his time nobody knew. But 
every year two old eagles came to the nest, 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


151 


and used it for a nursery, far above the sea 
and beyond the homes of men; shut in by 
thick woods and the bold rocks of the moun- 
tain. This was just the time when Captain 
Sackett had seen a baby eagle there last year; 
and the Club was eager to visit the nest now, 
while the ^Veterans’ were away, hoping to 
have something to tell them on their return. 
For it is not many persons who have seen an 
eagle on its nest. 

It was a wild walk through thick woods 
with no road; only a narrow trail made in 
years past by wood-cutters, and since used by 
campers and summer people at long intervals. 
For Captain Sackett had kept his secret well, 
telling only those friends who could be trusted 
not to hurt or harry the faithful eagles’ well- 
hidden nursery. 

The trail followed at first the bed of a 
brook. It was an easy climb, under shady 
trees, and the girls went merrily without stop- 
ping to rest. Then, where a cairn of brook- 
pebbles marked a change of direction, Nelly 
led them at right angles along a narrow foot- 
path between low bushes and under trees that 


152 


ROUND ROBIN 


had not been trimmed for years. This was 
the path to the nest. The trees were marked 
by old ^‘blazes” or notches made to show the 
path to keen eyes, and the girls had fun in 
trying to see who would be the first to spy 
each blaze. Nelly was ahead of the others, 
and had this advantage. But Cicely’s eyes 
were quick; perhaps because she had studied 
flowers closely and also because she liked to 
draw and sketch out of doors, as so many Eng- 
lish girls do. 

It was very exciting to lose the trail for a 
moment, then to find it again plainly marked 
some yards ahead, when you thought it gone 
forever. It seemed like a live thing, playing 
at hide and seek with them. But the girls 
knew that the only safe way was for the last 
girl in line to stay close by the last blaze dis- 
covered, until the leader should reach the next 
blaze. That is an old woods’ rule. And the 
second rule is Keep Together — ^which was 
also the Club motto. 

By and by the path ceased to climb. They 
had come out upon flat ground covered with 
very tall old spruce trees, many of them 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


153 


draped with grey moss, like bearded giants. 
Beverly and Anne were chatting at the end 
of the line, and the others were a bit ahead, 
when Nelly turned and signed to them to be 
quiet. '"Shr she cautioned with her finger 
on her lip. “We mustn’t talk now!” Anne 
was annoyed. 

“Why can’t I talk?” said she. “She needn’t 
give orders, as if she were a captain herself I” 
And she went on talking. But the others all 
looked back and frowned ''Shf' 

“We are coming near the nest, I reckon!” 
explained Beverly in a whisper. “Nelly says 
she hears something. We don’t want to 
frighten the eagles away if they are there.” 
At this Anne was sulkily silent. There seemed 
nothing to reply. 

They tiptoed through the woods, trying not 
to snap the underbrush. Climbing over a 
fallen old log, Gilda was unlucky enough to 
lose her balance and fall head foremost with 
a crash. ^'Shr warned the whole Club in a 
gigantic whisper. And it sounded so funny 
as a chorus that they all began to shake with 
laughter they must not express aloud. Gilda 


154 


ROUND ROBIN 


picked herself up unhurt, and they crept on. 
Finally Nelly halted the procession and they 
gathered about her to hear what she had to 
say. 

^The nest is up in the top of that great 
tall pine tree there on the edge of the swamp,” 
she whispered. ^^Uncle says it has been there 
perhaps a hundred years. And that maybe 
the same pair of eagles have been here ever 
since he was a boy. Eagles never desert their 
mates, and they arc the most devoted mothers 
and fathers. Listen! Do you hear that high 
little pipe? That’s an eagle now.” 

It did not seem possible that the shrill, 
harsh sound could be the voice of the king of 
birds! 

“There is the nest,” whispered Nelly, point- 
ing. “See! There is something up there!” 
A great platform of coarse twigs projected 
from a crotch near the top of the huge pine 
tree. Below the trunk was bare. While they 
peered in turn through the bird-glasses that 
Norma had brought, they could make out two 
huge bird-shaped objects silhouetted against 
the sky, perched on top of this rude nest. They 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


155 


were the children of the bald-headed eagle. 
The squawking little monsters were begging 
for food with greedy bills, as undignified as 
young robins. 

“Where do you suppose the old birds are?” 
asked Norma. 

“Gone to get dinner for the family, prob- 
ably,” answered Nelly. “They may be fish- 
ing for themselves down by the sea, or stealing 
from the fish-hawks, like robbers. I daresay 
they are miles away. Their great wings are so 
strong.” 

“I wish I could see those babies better,” 
said Nancy discontentedly. “It’s hard to tell 
where the birds leave ofif and the nest begins. 
I am going to climb up in this tall spruce and 
see them nearer.” The spruce was about 
twenty feet from the pine and half as tall. 

“Oh, don’t try it, Nancy!” begged Nelly 
Sackett. 

“No, I wouldn’t,” added Norma. “The old 
birds might come. It’s too hard a climb for 
a girl.” 

That was enough. “Pooh I” said Nancy be- 
ginning to mount. “I can climb as well as 


156 


ROUND ROBIN 


any boy!” And indeed she scaled the tree like 
a young monkey. 

^^Tante told us to keep together,” protested 
Nelly Sackett. ^Tlease, Nancy I” But Nancy 
retorted : 

^^She meant keep together horizontally. 
This is vertically! That’s different!” She 
was half way up the tree, pulling herself from 
crotch to crotch, and grumbling at the spruce 
gum with which the tree was too generously 
supplied. “I’m all sticky, but I can see finely 
now!” she cried. “There are two babies, and 
their heads are rusty brown. Oh, they are 
plaint 

They could see Nancy clinging far up in 
the tree; and the little eagles seemed also to 
spy her. For they set up a horrible squawk- 
ing. Presently the girls heard another sound. 
A high piping scream far away, but growing 
louder. 

“The old eagles are coming!” cried Nelly 
Sackett. “Hurry up, Nancy! Come down!” 

You cannot hurry very fast coming down 
from a high tree. Nancy began to descend. 
But before she had gone very far a great 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


157 


shadow came between her and the sun. 
Mighty wings with a stretch of at least seven 
feet from tip to tip seemed to Nancy like the 
pinions of the Roc in the Arabian Nights. 
There were two of the birds, and they were 
circling round her high up in the air, scream- 
ing frightfully. The old eagles had come to 
defend their babies! 

Nancy suddenly remembered the stories 
she had read about the fierceness of eagles 
when their young are in danger. She knew 
they would try to peck her eyes, or beat her 
with their great wings. 

^^Keep in the thick part of the tree, Nancy T’ 
called out Nelly. ^They can’t get at you 
there.” 

Nancy clung close to the trunk, and grad- 
ually let herself slip down to the ground where 
the other girls were cowering, very white and 
anxious. The eagles could not get at them 
there, though they still circled screaming 
overhead. The trees grew too thickly; the 
great birds would not venture down among 
them where those enormous wings might be 
entangled in the branches. Eagles have to 


158 


ROUND ROBIN 


fight in the open; which is the only hope of 
the small, weak creatures they would other- 
wise make their prey. 

“Oh Nancy!” Cicely grabbed her cousin 
with trembling hands. “I was so frightened!” 

“It was a silly thing to do,” Nancy con- 
fessed rather shamefacedly. “Mother will 
certainly have the right to scold me. Since 
I wouldn’t keep together, I was very nearly 
taken apart! I’ll not forget our motto in a 
hurry, girls!” 

“Let’s get away from here,” suggested 
Beverly. And the others were eager to do 
as she said. Tripping and breathless they 
made their way through the woods back to 
the main path up the mountain. The old 
eagles followed them for some distance, high 
up above the trees, screaming their anger at 
the meddling humans. But finally they gave 
up the pursuit, deciding perhaps to go back 
and hear what their youngsters had to tell 
about it. The girls breathed more freely 
when the sound of those most unregal voices 
ceased screaming overhead. But they did not 
pause for rest or for lunch, till they had the 



159 



\ 


THE EAGLE’S NEST 


161 


swamp and another small mountain between 
them and the eagle’s nest; till, in fact, they 
were on top of the highest mountain, where 
they chose a nice shady spot out of the wind 
and sank down to eat and enjoy the view. 

They were pretty tired, exhausted with ex- 
citement and extremely hungry. They did 
not talk much till it was time to start down the 
mountain again. 


CHAPTER XII 


LOST 

‘^TT will be easy going down,” said Nelly 
Sackett, when they were rested and 
ready. “There are several trails down 
from the top in different directions. But I 
told Tante we would return the way we came, 
because that is the quickest way to Round 
Robin.” 

They started off at a brisk pace. “If any- 
one gets tired, sing out, and we will stop for 
a rest,” Nelly shouted over her shoulder. “But 
all keep together.” 

“All right!” chorused the Club. But who 
wants to be the first to cry “tired”? The fore- 
most girls started to skip and hop down the 
path, and after that they found it hard to go 
slowly, though their knees began to feel queer 
kinks. Again Anne brought up the rear; this 
time because she was really tired. The others 
162 


LOST 


163 


were so busy watching their own rollicking 
steps, laughing and squealing, that no one no- 
ticed how Anne was gradually falling further 
and further behind. 

“I don’t need to ask Nelly Sackett’s permis- 
sion to rest,” Anne said to herself sulkily. She 
had started out of sorts, and had been growing 
no less so as the day grew long. “The others 
can go on a bit,” she thought. “I’m tired of 
hearing their voices. I’ll catch up when I 
get ready, for it’s easy walking on this path.” 

Anne was not timid about being alone in 
the woods, as Beverly was. She sat down 
under a great pine tree and took off her hat, 
to cool her hot forehead. It was quiet and 
peaceful in the shade. Around a bend in the 
path she saw Beverly’s knapsack disappear, 
as she cantered after the other girls. Anne 
breathed a sigh of relief. Somewhere in the 
woods a hermit thrush began to sing his flute- 
like song; always in three parts. Anne 
listened eagerly. She had never heard one 
s© near before, though Norma had taught her 
the song. She rested some time, till the thrush 
stopped singing, then she felt quite ready to 


164 


ROUND ROBIN 


Start on again. She picked herself up with 
a triumphant feeling that she had done as she 
pleased, with nobody’s leave. 

^^It’s easy enough to follow a blazed trial,” 
mused Anne out loud. It seemed natural to 
talk out loud in the woods, when one was 
alone. “I don’t see why they make such a 
fuss about being ^careful.’ I remember these 
trees perfectly. I remember everything!” 

The blazes on the trees were fresh and plain 
along here. But presently Anne came to a 
place where a great pine had fallen under the 
storms of the previous hard winter, and lay 
right across the path. Another had crashed 
into a grove of spruces and had taken them 
all down with it to ruin. remember we 
went out of the way around this,” said Anne. 
She made a wide detour, and looking care- 
fully, came again upon blazes, quite conspicu- 
ous ones. She had lost time in rediscovering 
the path. “I see why it is better to keep to- 
gether, on a long walk,” she said to herself. 
“A lot of eyes can spy blazes quicker. I’ll 
have to hurry to catch up with the rest, unless 


LOST 


165 


they stop. I think they will stop for me.” 
She hurried on a little faster. 

“I wonder if paths always look so different 
coming down?” thought Anne a little later. 
Again she came to a blind part of the trail. 
A perfect maze of fallen trees had wiped out 
every sign of a path. And a great moss- 
covered boulder stood square in the way. 
certainly never saw that rock before! We 
should have spoken of it,” said Anne dubi- 
ously. don’t see any blazes — oh yes, there 
is one. But it looks very old and faint, not 
like those we followed this morning. There’s 
another! Can I be on the right path? They 
did not say there was another branching off.” 

This was a very wriggling narrow path in- 
deed, and Anne could not help seeing that it 
was different from the one she remembered. 
She began to feel rather nervous, and she re- 
membered with a pang Tante’s last words to 
the Club — ^^Above all, keep together. To- 
gether is a safe motto, especially in the 
woods.” No one answered her repeated calls. 

The path grew vaguer and vaguer. Some- 
times the blazes seemed quite obliterated. 


166 


ROUND ROBIN 


Sometimes there seemed groups of them 
marking paths that led in opposite ways. 
Anne had to choose as best she could what 
seemed the right general direction. 

Finally she came out quite abruptly into 
a sort of clearing, where the blazes converged 
in a hopeless muddle. Probably it was the 
site of an old wood-cutters’ camp, and these 
were the paths the men had made to get lum- 
ber, leading nowhere but to the place where 
some big tree had stood. Anne had no idea 
which way to go next. She was indeed lost. She 
shouted, but no one answered. Her voice did 
not seem to carry far; only the twittering of 
frightened birds and the mocking caw of an 
old black crow answered her. 

Anne sat down, breathless, to think; and 
for the first time she was really frightened. 
Once she fancied she heard a far-off shout, 
that might be the Club yell. But it seemed 
to come from the wrong direction; and not 
hearing it again, in answer to hers, she con- 
cluded she had been mistaken. 

Suddenly she heard the sharp crack of a 
rifle somewhere in the woods beyond her. 


LOST 


167 


There was no mistaking that sound. “Some- 
body is hunting!’’ she thought. “Suppose he 
should shoot me by mistake!” She jumped 
to her feet and hurried forward again, away 
from the sound of the shot. 

Then she discovered all of a sudden that she 
was on a broad, well-marked trail leading 
down the mountain. This was encouraging, 
for she could walk faster now. But she 
stopped abruptly in a few moments. She had 
spied something through the trees. It was a 
hut in the woods beside the trail ; a hut away 
off in this lonely spot on the side of a moun- 
tain that was supposed to be uninhabited! 

It was a shiftless low shack of rough logs 
covered with tar-paper. From a tiny chimney 
a thin coil of smoke was rising. About the 
hut was a disorderly litter of barrels and boxes 
and earthen jugs. A wheelbarrow stood by 
the door. Probably there was someone in 
the house who could tell her which way to 
go home. But Anne had no desire to inves- 
tigate the owner of this lonely, untidy place. 
Her one thought was to get away as soon as 
possible. 


168 


ROUND ROBIN 


Dowfi the path she ran wildly, stumbling 
and sometimes falling, as the roots of the 
ground-pine and the rolling pebbles seemed 
trying to trip her. The path made a con- 
tinuous curve. Soon Anne had lost all account 
of direction, as well as of time. When she 
had run some distance and was thoroughly out 
of breath, she made up her mind that she must 
stop to rest. Then she saw that she was com- 
ing out of the thick woods. Suddenly, the 
path made a jump out onto a beach, a tiny 
crescent of pebbly sand, hidden from the open 
sea by a rocky island close to shore, and by 
other reefs beyond. Anne stepped on to the 
pebbles and looked about quite dazed. There 
was nothing to tell where she was or in which 
direction was home. There was nothing 
familiar on land or sea. 

Presently Anne spied a small motor-boat 
anchored in the tiny harbor. And at the same 
moment she became aware that she was not 
alone in the cove. A man was stooping over 
some boxes which he had evidently just 
brought ashore. They lay at the entrance of 
what looked like a cave in the cliff. The man 


LOST 


169 


glanced up over his shoulder at the sound of 
Anne’s feet on the pebbles. Then he sprang 
erect with a jerk, like a jumping- jack. 

“Hello!” he cried in gruff surprise that was 
not pleasure. “Where’d you come from?” 

He was a tall rough-looking man in fisher- 
man’s clothes and boots and a tarpaulin hat. 
Around his throat was a knotted red handker- 
chief, and he looked rather like a pirate. 
What with the cave and the piles of boxes and 
barrels at the entrance, Anne thought of 
Dick’s favorite story of pirate treasure; and 
for a moment she imagined she was dreaming. 
But the man recalled her, repeating his ques- 
tion impatiently and taking a step towards her. 

“I say, who are you and where’d you come 
from?” When the man frowned he had a 
still more dangerous look. 

Anne’s heart sank. Beverly would prob- 
ably have fainted away. “I’m lost, I guess,” 
she said faintly. “We went up on the moun- 
tain from our camp near the Harbor, and I 
got separated from the others. Will you 
please tell me how to get home?” 

“Home?” echoed the man, eyeing her 


170 


ROUND ROBIN 


sharply. ‘‘Why, the Harbor’s miles from 
here!” 

“Oh!” exclaimed Anne in despair. “What 
shall I do?” 

“You never kin walk it,” said the man 
gruffly. “I don’t see how you got here. Down 
the mount-ing, eh? H’m! Some journey!” 

“Yes!” assented Anne. “Miles!” 

The man had a sudden idea. “Did ye see 
anything in the woods as ye come along?” 
Anne shook her head. “I heard a shot,” she 
said, “that was what frightened me, so I ran. 
Perhaps it was you?” she had spied a rifle 
lying on the beach beside the stranger. 

“Mebbe,” said the man shortly. “Shootin’ 
fish. No luck, though. Didn’t see anything 
else in the woods, did ye?” 

“I saw a house that looked as if somebody 
was in it,” said Anne truthfully. “Smoke was 
coming out of the chimney.” 

“Fergit it!” said the man sharply. “Smoke? 
^You was dreamin’. Or else it’s ha’nted. Yes, 
^that’s it; that house is ha’nted! Old hermit 
^lived there once. Nobody remembers it; but 


LOST 


171 


it’s so. I wouldn’t speak of it to nobody, 
if I was you. Bad luck!” 

Anne thought he talked strangely, and 
wondered if she had a crazy man to deal with. 
But his next words reassured her. “I s’pose 
I could take ye a piece of the way home 
in my boat,” he said rather dubiously. ^^Ye 
got to get away somehow.” 

^^Oh, thank you!” cried Anne gratefully. 
^‘They will be so worried about me at Camp.” 
He rowed her out to the boat in a light dory 
that served as his tender. “Jump in,” he said 
roughly, taking her by the arm to steady her. 

“Where shall I sit?” she asked, looking 
around the boat, for there was no seat of any 
kind. Evidently this was no passenger-boat. 
“Set right down in the bottom,” commanded 
the man. And though it neither looked nor 
smelled clean, Anne obeyed the look in the 
man’s eye. From where she crouched she could 
see nothing but blue sky. The stranger steered 
standing. His back was towards her and his 
Eat hid his face completely. He spoke no 
word as the boat chugged along into what 
seemed to Anne the middle of the ocean, so 


172 


ROUND ROBIN 


entirely was all sight of land hidden from 
her. Once she started to climb to her feet, 
to see where they were going. 

“Set down!” roared the man, who seemed 
to have eyes in the back of his head. And 
after that Anne kept still. It seemed to her 
that the boat threaded a very winding course; 
but she could not really tell. Indeed, all 
water-courses had to be more or less crooked 
in this part of the world, on account of the 
many reefs and islands. 

They went for a long time, perhaps fifteen 
minutes, before the man spoke to Anne. 
“YeVe made me a lot of trouble,” he said 
crossly. “Don’t do it again!” 

“Indeed I won’t,” said Anne fervently. 
“I’m sorry.” 

“Ye’d better keep yer mouth shut about 
what ye’ve seen to-day,” he shot out the words 
with a growl, “or ye’ll be sorry! I’m goin’ 
to set you ashore pretty soon, not far from yer 
Camp. Ye’ll have about half a mile to walk; 
but that ain’t bad for a stocky miss like you.” 

“Thank you,” said Anne meekly. 

The shadows were slanting low in the west 


LOST 


173 


when the pilot made a sharp turn and the 
boat entered the still waters of a cove. The 
engine stopped and they drifted. ^^Ye may 
git yer 'feet a bit wet,” said the man ; “but 
I hope ye’re no molly-coddle, if ye’re a 
camper. Here, git up!” Anne climbed to 
her feet, rather numb and stiff, and looked 
around. The place seemed strange, yet curi- 
ously familiar. She could not tell what was 
the matter. 

“Which way do I go?” she asked bewil- 
dered, when she was ashore. 

The man laughed but seemed pleased at 
her question. *^That way,” he said, pointing. 
“Pike along now, and fergit itr He repeated 
the last words again with emphasis, shaking 
his head solemnly with a threat in his voice. 

Anne looked about her dazedly. “Why, I 
should have guessed it was that way!” she 
murmured. “I’m all turned around!” 

“Must have gone right round the mount- 
ing,” said the man with a grin. “And it’s 
pathless wilderness, too,” he spoke slowly. 
“Ye’re lucky to git off so well, I tell ye!” 
He was rowing away in the boat. “What’s 


174 


ROUND ROBIN 


yer name, missy?’’ he asked with a sudden 
thought, lying on his oars. “I might want to 
remember it, in case ye don’t do as I say. 
In case ye telir 

Anne had a mind not to reply, and to run 
for home instead. But she was too doubtful 
about the path, and she spoke her name. 

“Anne Poole!” exclaimed the man. “Not 
Chester Poole’s gal?” 

“Why, yes,” said Anne, surprised at his 
black look. 

The man in the boat gave an exclamation. 
He seemed half inclined to put back after 
her. “The scalawag!” he muttered. “If I’d 
’a known that!” But Anne waited to hear no 
more, not even to thank him for the kindness 
he seemed already to repent. She began to 
run along the path, strangely confused be- 
cause it seemed to go in the wrong direction. 
It was like running “through the looking 
glass!” It was only when she caught sight 
of the boys’ camp, and Dick Reed coming 
to meet her with a shout of welcome, that she 
was sure she was really headed for home. 


LOST 


175 


**Scalawagr the word echoed in her ears. 
She had never heard it before. What did the 
man mean? Was he insulting her or her 
father with that name? She resolved to hold 
her tongue as he bade her. 


CHAPTER XIII 


ANOTHER SIDE 

I N answer to Dick’s reassuring call ‘‘Here 
she is!” the Round Robin came running, 
pale and anxious, to greet Anne. Not a 
word of reproach did she hear. Only affec- 
tionate joy that she was safe. 

The girls had re-climbed the mountain as 
soon as they missed Anne, and had hunted 
for her up and down, until they saw it was 
growing late, when they were afraid of being 
overtaken by the dark. When they returned 
with the news that Anne was lost, the Camp 
was in consternation. Dick wanted to start 
out immediately on search. But Tante made 
the boy wait to hear what Captain Sackett 
should advise, after Nelly had told him. 

While Anne had her late supper the others 
gathered round to hear her story. The Twins 

176 


ANOTHER SIDE 


1T7 


could not get close enough to her. But mind- 
ful of the tall stranger’s caution, Anne did not 
mention the hut in the woods, nor say much 
about the man who had brought her home; 
though she did mention the cave, at which 
word Dick pricked up his ears. 

Even while Anne was concluding her 
description of how it felt to be lost alone on 
the mountain; and while the Twins were still 
shivering to think how dreadful it would 
have been to stay out there all night. Captain 
Sackett came striding up. His wrinkled face 
was anxious and drawn. He carried a lantern 
in his hand, evidently prepared to make search 
through the dark for the lost girl. 

“Any news?” he called from a distance, 
unable to wait. And when they shouted 
“Found!” he gave a low fervent ejaculation 
of thanksgiving that went straight to Anne’s 
heart. “I didn’t know anybody cared so much 
about me!” she said to herself. 

“Nelly’s almost sick,” said the Captain. 
“She blames herself for having let Anne get 
lost. For of course, this one’s a tender-foot, 
though she has lived in these parts longer than 


178 


ROUND ROBIN 


Nelly has. The girl oughtn’t to have let Anne 
stray off. I told her so!” The Cap’n looked 
unwontedly stern for him. 

“Oh, it wasn’t Nelly’s fault,” Anne hastened 
to say. “It was my own doing. I didn’t follow 
my leader, but stopped without telling. And 
that was breaking the Club rule. It was silly 
of me I I’m sorry.” Anne drooped, very tired 
and ashamed. 

The Captain looked at her kindly. “That’s 
right,” he said with approval. “Not ashamed 
to say you’re sorry when it’s your own fault. 
Well, I’m glad it turned out all right! That 
saves me a hunt to-night. I’ll hurry back and 
tell Nelly, so she and Polly won’t be worry- 
in’. And I’ll tell Maguire and Chatto they 
won’t have to comb the mountain with me 
after all. You would have had the whole 
neighborhood busy huntin’ for you, girl!” he 
said to Anne, grinning affectionately. 

“Oh, I shouldn’t think they’d do it for mef' 
said Anne humbly, remembering how little 
notice she had ever taken of the people at the 
Harbor. She didn’t even know the men who 
belonged to those names. 


ANOTHER SIDE 


179 


‘^Neighbors are neighbors,” said the old 
man. “Everybody turns to and helps in time 
of trouble, don’t they? That’s American!” 

“Tell Nelly she is a splendid leader,” said 
Anne shyly, “and I’ll never hang back again 
on a trail. And please tell her I am coming 
over to-morrow to see her — and the rabbit.” 

Everybody was glad enough to go to bed, 
tired and frightened as they all had been in 
various ways. But they did not all go imme- 
diately to sleep. After Anne and Beverly 
were safely tucked into their little cots, the 
southern girl whispered another story to her 
tent-mate’s astonished and horrified ears; a 
tale with which she had decided not to burden 
the already over-worried Tante until to-mor- 
row. 

“Who do you fancy your old man was, 
Anne?” she drawled. “Because I daresay he 
was the same man who was hunting the deer, 
and who so nearly shot me. But how could 
he be in two places at the same time, on the 
sea-shore and in the woods? Unless he has 
the Seven League Boots that Nancy is always 
talking about.” 


180 


ROUND ROBIN 


^^Nearly shot you, Beverly? What do you 
mean?” Anne who was almost ready for sleep, 
came wide awake again and sat up in bed 
with a gasp of horror. 

“Why, didn’t anybody tell you-all? It was 
like this. We were poking down the moun- 
tain the second time, pretty tired and dis- 
couraged because we couldn’t find you, Anne. 
It seemed awful to leave you there alone on 
the mountain, and night coming on. It makes 
me creep to think of it now! Those dark 
woods! But what could we do?” 

“I was a goose,” said Anne. “How tired 
you must all be !” 

“Well, Nancy was a little ahead,” Beveily 
went on. “She didn’t seem so tired as the 
rest of us, and Nelly was close behind her. 
Nelly had just said We must keep together, 
girls, for it is growing darker.’ When Norma 
cried ^Hark! I hear something!’ You know 
how sharp her ears are, being a musician? 
Tt must be Anne coming!’ I said, and I was 
pleased. So I ran out to meet you. Some- 
thing brown was coming, sure enough, just 


ANOTHER SIDE 


181 


the color of our khaki suits. It came leaping 
and crackling the bushes, as if frightened. 
And then I saw it was a beautiful tawny deer 
followed by two baby fawns, like long-legged 
yellow dogs. They were coming straight to- 
wards me, the pretty things! But when they 
spied us they swerved abruptly and bounded 
away into the underbrush and were out of 
sight in a minute. We were so surprised that 
we didn’t move or speak a word. Then all of 
a sudden Nelly Sackett who was close to me 
gave a jump right at me and knocked me down 
on the ground.” 

‘‘Why, what did she do that for?” cried 
Anne. 

“Lucky she did!” answered Beverly. “It 
was the quickest thing you ever saw, and it 
saved my life. ‘Don’t fire!’ yelled Nelly as 
she jumped. But in that very same instant 
there was a rifle-crack. The bullet must have 
zone right over my head. It hit the tree be- 
hind me!” 

“Oh, Beverly! Who fired it?” 

“I don’t know who he was. But a minute 


182 


ROUND ROBIN 


later a man’s head poked out of the bushes. 
He had the most wicked, dark face, but he 
looked frightened enough then. thought it 
was a deer,’ he said in a gruff voice with a 
curious accent. ^Didn’t mean nothin’.’ And 
without another word he disappeared.” 

^‘That must have been the shot I heard!” 
said Anne. “O Beverly, if I had known what 
it was! How brave Nelly was to save you!” 

“That makes another hero in that family,” 
said Beverly. “They just seem to do the right 
thing when the time comes, don’t they?” 

“Beverly, what did that man look like?” 
asked Anne thoughtfully. 

“He was short and dingy, with a black 
beard and little bright eyes,” she answered. 
“He wore a cap and a red shirt. I couldn’t 
see any more in that quick minute. But I 
reckon he was some kind of strange foreigner.” 
Beverly’s voice was growing drowsy, and she 
drawled more than ever. 

“It wasn’t my man!” thought Anne. “I 
wonder which of them lives in the ‘ha’nted 
house’? And what is he doing there all by 


ANOTHER SIDE 


183 " 


himself? I wonder what that man meant by 
‘Scalawag’? And oh, how glad I am Beverly 
was not killed!” 

With a grateful heart at the end of an event- 
ful day, Anne fell asleep. 


CHAPTER XIV 


COSTUMES 

X ANTE was going to have a birthday. 
It was the Twins who let out the secret 
which they had been charged to keep. 
But it is easy to understand how, while it is 
hard enough for one person to keep a secret, 
it must be twice as hard when you are twof 
“What shall we do to celebrate Tante’s 
birthday?” asked Beverly, consulting the 
Club. In view of her relation to the person 
in question, Nancy declined to act as chair- 
man. There were six in conclave, Nelly 
Sackett being absent, for this was a hurry-up 
call. The birthday was only two days distant, 
the family secret having been well kept till 
now. 

“We must have something jolly, where 
everybody can do something,” suggested 
Cicely. Someone spoke of a play; but they 

184 


COSTUMES 


185 


agreed that would take too long to prepare. 
Somebody else thought a surprise party would 
be nice. But then everyone would not be 
taking part. Xante must be in it too. 

‘Xet’s have a dress-up party! I know what 
I want to be 1” It was of course Norma’s idea. 
Norma was alway acting out some part or 
“trying something on to prettify herself,” as 
Dick said. 

The suggestion appealed to the Club at 
once. “Let’s ask Xante if she would like it,” 
said Beverly. And Xante said she should like 
it very much indeed. She too had always en- 
joyed dressing up. There would be a full 
moon, and they could parade and dance or do 
whatever they liked out of doors under the 
trees in the early evening. 

At first Hugh and Victor demurred. The 
idea of dressing-up seemed silly to them. 
“We’ll look on,” they said, man-like. 

“Oh no! Everybody must be in costume!” 
declared Xante. “Nobody can be a mere 
spectator at my party. I am sure you can 
find something to wear without much trouble; 
just to please me!” 


186 


ROUND ROBIN 


“All right!” said Victor with a sudden grin. 
“I have an idea.” Then Hugh said he had 
an idea too — a dark secret! As for Reddy, he 
could hardly wait, he was so eager to get into 
his costume. 

“What about Nelly Sackett?” asked Beverly. 
“We must let her know in time to get ready.” 

“Of course,” agreed Nancy. “She will have 
to hurry, if she has only to-morrow to fix her 
costume, by herself. She said she was not 
coming over to-day. Can’t someone take time 
to let her know?” 

“I’ll go over and tell her,” said Anne un- 
expectedly. “I was going any way to see my 
rabbit, Plon.” 

“You can ask Nelly to stay all night,” sug- 
gested Mrs. Batchelder. “We can put her 
up somewhere. We have done it before.” 

“She can have my bed,” said Beverly 
eagerly. “I will sleep on the floor.” 

“No, I will,” said Anne, after a minute. 

“Well, you can settle that later,” suggested 
Tante. “You can even pull your two cots 
together and make them up crosswise for 
three. Once when I was a little girl I went 


COSTUMES 


187 


visiting with some of my cousins, and seven 
of us girls slept in one bed! To be sure that 
was in the days of the big old-fashioned bed- 
steads, which were like arks.” 

^T’ll paddle you around in the canoe, Anne, 
if you like,” offered Dick. ^T’ve agreed to 
go to the Harbor for the mail. And I’ll call 
for you on the way back.” 

“That would be very nice,” said Anne grate- 
fully. 

“Dick is going to buy a costume at the Har- 
bor; no fair!” cried Norma. 

“Let’s make it a rule that nobody shall buy 
anything new. Let’s put together our costumes 
entirely out of whatever we already have,” 
said Tante, who knew how very little pocket 
money most of the campers had. 

“Or whatever we can find, or make out of 
nothing?” added Nancy. 

“Or borrow?” suggested Anne. “We can 
borrow or lend, can’t we?” 

“Of course!” they chorused. Already they 
had an eye on one another’s possessions. “But 
don’t anyone tell what you are going to be,” 
cautioned Nancy. 


188 


ROUND ROBIN 


So it was agreed. 

The girls scattered in various directions. 
Anne went straight to the store-room and 
rummaged in the trunks which she had not 
opened since she came to Round Robin. 
thought I might have a chance to wear this,’’ 
she said exultingly to herself, as she drew out 
a shimmering mass from its tissue-paper folds. 
‘^Mother said it was nonsense to bring a Co- 
lumbine dress down here. But now I am glad 
I did. Nobody will have anything half so 
fine. Now let’s see if I can’t find something 
for Nelly. It would be nice to help her out. 
I expect she hasn’t anything that would do 
to wear.” 

Anne went on rummaging. “Why, here’s 
that nun’s costume!” she said presently. “I 
didn’t know Mother put that in, it’s so ugly. 
I wonder if Nelly would care about that? She 
could wear anything underneath and be com- 
fortable. I think I will take it over to her.” 

Anne folded up the nun’s costume and 
tucked it under her arm. Dick was waiting 
in the canoe. “Hello!” he called as she came 
down the path. “What you got there? A 


COSTUMES 


189 


costume for Nelly, I bet! Going to dress her 
up as a guardian angel or something?” Anne 
stopped short and hesitated. 

“Wait a minute,” she said, turning in the 
path. “IVe got to go back for something, 
Reddy.” When she came down the path 
again she had quite a different bundle under 
her arm; a package in white tissue paper. 

“That looks still more like an angePs robe 
than the other did,” grinned Dick. But Anne 
did not tell him what it was. 

As soon as they were off in the canoe Dick 
began to ask Anne more questions about her 
adventure on the mountain, which had made 
a great impression on his imagination. He 
had already bothered her so much that she 
grew impatient whenever he returned to the 
subject. Which direction was the cave? What 
did the place look like when she came down 
the mountain? Had she noticed which way 
the sun was? Weren’t there any landmarks? 
Did the man look like a pirate? If pirates 
were in the wind Dick wanted to be the one 
to find them. Anne was vague, but she stuck 
to one point. 


190 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘‘It was a long way from here; it took at 
least half an hour to come. And we came 
from the south — no, not from the north, 
Reddy r’ 

“You must have walked miles off the trail 
to get down to the south of the mountain,’’ 
Dick persisted. “I can’t understand it!” But 
Anne reminded him that he had met her re- 
turning from the south of the camp, which he 
couldn’t deny. 

“I don’t see through it!” muttered Dick, 
completely mystified. He had scoured every 
foot of shore from Round Robin to the Har- 
bor, and for miles beyond. But no cave could 
he find. When he asked discreet questions 
of the natives like Lonny Maguire, the ablest 
fisherman of them all, or of Hopkins the light- 
house keeper, who had always lived here, they 
shook their heads and said they didn’t know 
of any cave on the main-land at the foot of the 
mountain. 

“They would be likely to know if there was 
such a cave, now wouldn’t they?” argued 
Dick. He began to believe that Anne had 
been dreaming. 


COSTUMES 


191 


But Anne only said positively, “I know 
what I saw, Reddy. Let’s not talk any more 
about it.” 

“Right-0 !” said Reddy. But he did not 
mean to quit looking just yet. 

By this time they had reached the Cap- 
tain’s cove, and Dick set Anne ashore, promis- 
ing to call for her again in about an hour. 

Anne started up the path with her white 
package under her arm, and met Nelly com- 
ing down. 

“Hello!” said Nelly in surprise, for Anne 
had been over only the day before to visit 
the rabbit. “All alone?” 

“Yes,” said Anne. “Dick brought me. I 
wanted to see you by yourself. It’s a secret. 
You see, the Club is going to have a dress-up 
party for Xante’s birthday, day after to-mor- 
row. And of course you are to come.” 

“Of course,” agreed Nelly, simply. 

“And you will have to wear a fancy cos- 
tume. Everybody will.” 

“But I never can get ready so soon. I 
haven’t any dress,” protested Nelly. 

“That’s what I thought,” said Anne eagerly, 


192 


ROUND ROBIN 


with the tactlessness she had yet to unleariK 
It made Nelly flush. But Anne went on with 
the best will in the world. “So I came to 
bring you something that I think will do 
nicely, and will look lovely on you. I hope 
you will wear it. It will save a lot of trouble.” 
She held out the package to Nelly. 

Nelly looked eager) but doubtful. “Come 
up to the house and let Mother look, too,” she 
said, and the two girls scampered up the path. 

“Mother! Anne has brought me a dress,” 
said Nelly Sackett, explaining to Aunt Polly 
in a few words. “Come right up to my room,” 
she invited Anne, leading the way up the nar- 
row stairway to the second story. 

Nelly’s room was small. Anne thought she 
had never been in so small a bedroom; unless 
you dignify a tent with that name. But 
Nelly’s room was clean as a whistle, with 
quaint old-fashioned furniture and braided 
rugs, and an ancient hand-woven bedquilt 
that Mrs. Poole would have coveted. Out 
of the east window Nelly had the prettiest 
view of the sea; while from the other corner 
she looked right into the branches of an old 


COSTUMES 


193 


apple tree, gnarled and twisted by its hard life 
in the bleak Cove, during northern winters. 

‘^You can lay it on my bed,” said Nelly, 
smoothing the blue and white quilt. Aunt 
Polly had followed more slowly up the steep 
flight, and now stood watching, hands on hips, 
while Anne unfolded the sheets of tissue and 
shook out the ruffles of white tarleton. Anne 
handled the pretty Columbine dress as if she 
loved it. 

“Oh, how lovely!” cried Nelly, gently 
touching the spangled sparkling bodice, the 
satin slippers and the tinsel wand. Anne held 
up the crown of flowers and looked at it with 
her head on one side. 

“It is pretty, isn’t it?” she said. “I danced 
in it at a fancy-dress party last winter. But 
that was indoors. It will look even lovelier 
out of doors, in the moon-light, under the 
trees! This crown will be nice on your curly 
hair.” 

“I never saw anything so sweet!” exclaimed 
Nelly. “But it might get hurt.” 

“You and I are about the same size,” Anne 
went on, not noticing the objection. “I’m sure 


194 


ROUND ROBIN 


you can wear the slippers and everything. 
Won’t you try them on?” 

“But what are you going to wear?” asked 
Nelly. “Yes,” added Aunt Polly, “what about 
you, Anne?” 

“Oh, I have something,” said Anne care- 
lessly. “There’s another dress I wore in a 
play, at school — a nun’s dress; that will do 
very nicely.” She could not help thinking 
how ugly the nun’s costume really was. Nelly 
had been thinking too. 

“I don’t believe it is half as pretty as this,” 
she said. “I can’t wear your things, when 
you ought to wear them yourself. Besides, 
I never had on a dress like this in my life, 
and I’d feel funny wearing it out of doors.” 

“She would so,” agreed Aunt Polly wag- 
ging her head. “But it was kind of you to 
think of it, Anne.” 

“It isn’t kind,” protested Anne. “Please take 
the dress, Nelly. I’d like to give it to you. 
I have lots of dresses at home.” 

Nelly hesitated, fingering the tarletan folds. 
“No,” she said slowly, “I’d rather not, thank 
you. It wouldn’t be nice. I’ll fix something 


COSTUMES 


195 


else. I guess I can think of something easy.’’ 

‘‘But what? What can you be?” Anne was 
really disappointed, and showed it like a 
spoiled child who isn’t having her own way. 

“I’ll be — I’ll be — a mermaid!” said Nelly 
suddenly. “That’s easy! Nancy said once that 
I’d make a fine mermaid, with my hair loose, 
and my green bathing-suit, and some shells.” 

“Then I shall be a mermaid, too!” declared 
Anne. “My bathing suit is red; but we can 
get kelp and things and drape both. My hair 
isn’t pretty and long like yours, but I can 
make some with seaweed. Mermaids can’t 
dance, but we will swim. Let’s go as mer- 
maids together. Shall we, Nelly?” Aunt 
Polly looked as pleased as Punch. 

“All right, let’s!” Nelly agreed with shy 
enthusiasm. “That will be fun! But who 
will wear this lovely dress?” she touched it 
again with a soft finger. 

“Oh, I don’t know — Gilda, perhaps,” said 
Anne carelessly. She did not know that Gilda 
was already provided for. “Let’s go down 
to the beach and get some shells and things 
now before Dick comes back for me.” 


196 


ROUND ROBIN 


The two girls ran off, chatting and laugh- 
ing. And Aunt Polly standing in the door- 
way watched them with kind eyes. In a mo- 
ment Anne darted back with a question. 
‘^Aunt Polly,” she said, “if I come over some 
morning very soon, will you show me how to 
make biscuits like those you gave me yester- 
day? I have got to take my turn at getting 
supper before long. And Pd like to surprise 
the Round Robin. They don’t think I can 
do anything — and I can’t!” she confessed. 
“But I think I can learn, if Norma and 
Beverly can.” 

“Sure you can!” said Aunt Polly. “An 
American girl ought to be able to do ’most 
anything. Come right over Friday morning 
and I’ll give you a lesson while I’m baking.” 
Anne thanked her and ran off to join Nelly. 

“Who’s that down on the beach with 
Nelly?” asked Cap’n Sackett coming up to 
the house from the opposite direction. Aunt 
Polly told him of Anne’s errand. “Sho!” said 
the Captain. “She’s got a good heart, that little 
girl, hasn’t she, Polly? Mermaids is it, 
they’re going to be? Lemme see; I guess I’ve 


COSTUMES 


197 ^ 

got some truck they might like.” And after 
rummaging in the drawers of an old bureau 
Cap’n Sackett joined the girls on the beach 
with his arms full of an odd collection. 

‘‘Mermaids ahoy!” he shouted. “Here’s 
some loot for ye. Want some coral beads? 

I got ’em in the South Sea when I was a lad. 
And here’s some strings of shells. Kinder 
pretty, ain’t they? Want these things to dress 
up with, eh?” 

“Oh yes! How pretty they are!” 

“We can make nets for our hair,” said 
Nelly. “And look. Uncle, here are some 
lovely long devil’s aprons we have found to 
make us fringy tails.” 

“You will give us some pieces of net to 
drape over our shoulders, won’t you, Cap’n?” 
begged Anne. “We shall be so trimmed-up 
and beautiful that the old bathing suits will 
hardly show.” 

“Oh Anne! What fun it will be!” said 
Nelly. “I’m glad we are going to dress alike.” 

“I’m glad too,” said Anne. “It’s lots more 
fun to make your own costume for a party 


198 


ROUND ROBIN 


than to wear one that is all ready for you, 
isn’t it?” 

“Here comes Dick,” said the Captain. 
“Don’t leave your bundle, Anne.” Anne 
picked up the tissue package which she had 
left lying on the beach and had almost for- 
gotten. 

“Don’t forget to come over early, and plan 
to spend the night,” she said to Nelly. “We 
will dress in the bath house. Good-bye, 
Nelly!” 

“Good-bye, Anne!” the girls waved and 
smiled until the canoe was out of the Cove. 


CHAPTER XV 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 

X ANTE’S birthday was a beautiful, 
bright blue day; what the towns-folk 
called a ''real Harbor day.” You will 
notice as you go around the world, that the 
real day of any place you visit is always the 
best kind of day one ever sees there. Perhaps 
the same thing is true of people. 

There were two rules at the Camp about 
birthdays. One was that there should never 
be any “boughten” presents. The second rule 
was that the hero or heroine of the occasion 
should do exactly as he pleased all day, and 
that everyone should fall into his or her plans. 

There was a curious collection of gifts at 
Xante’s place when she came down to break- 
fast. By her plate was a bowl of luscious 
strawberries — the last of the season, which the 
Twins had found by very careful hunting over 

199 


200 


ROUND ROBIN 


acres of meadow the day before. They knew 
how much their mother loved the wild straw- 
berries, and how lonesome she was going to 
be without them for a whole year. “Well, 
this will make the year a little shorter, won’t 
it. Mummy?” said Freddie. “Only from 
July till June.” 

“Some day we are going to take Mummy 
all up and down the world, wherever the 
strawberries grow,” said Eddie. “Hugh says 
we could begin in the winter in the far south 
and chase them right up to the Arctic circle, 
where they might still be juicv in September! 
Wouldn’t that be fine?” 

“But they would never be so good any- 
where as these are. I’m sure,” said Tante. 

Norma had picked a beautiful bunch of 
flowers for Tante — little wild orchises and 
ferns and cotton grass, which she had arranged 
in an original jardiniere made of a tin can 
covered with birch bark. Cicely had strung 
a beautiful necklace of hemlock cones with 
the red beads of the bunchberry set between. 
Beverly had finished at last the basket which 
Sal Seguin had helped her begin. Indeed, 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 201 

Beverly had seen the old Indian woman twice 
since that first visit. Once she had met her 
by chance on the shore near the bathing beach, 
and had brought down the half-finished basket 
for advice. Once again old Sal had looked 
her up in Camp, with a present of dyed red 
grass. So Xante’s basket had a beautiful 
border to finish it. 

Nancy had written her mother a birthday 
poem, and Hugh had whittled her a weather- 
vane — a round robin painted red, to go on the 
flag pole in front of the Camp. Anne gave 
her the prettiest pebble she had found — lovely 
mottled green with a white circle round it, 
which made it a ‘‘lucky stone.” Victor had 
painted her a little sketch. 

As for Dick, that ingenious boy had made 
a wind-harp by stringing the frame of a 
wooden box with twisted silk thread. And 
when Xante put it under the half-opened 
window in a strong breeze, it made the most 
odd and beautiful sounds, like fairy music 
written in no human key. 

“Nobody ever had such interesting pres- 


202 


ROUND ROBIN 


ents!” declared Tante, when she had looked 
at them all. 

‘‘Mine you cannot see till ze evening/’ said 
Gilda with a sly nod. Tante knew quite well 
that Gilda had been making candy all the 
previous afternoon; and Gilda knew that she 
knew. But it was a secret all the same. 

“Now, what do you want to do, Mother?” 
asked Hugh, following the second camp rule. 
“We are your slaves to-day. Choose what you 
would like best” 

“I would like best to do exactly what I al- 
ways do!” laughed Tante. “A little work, 
and a little play, a little reading, a little walk, 
and a little rest Nothing could be better than 
that, for me. Every day is like a birthday, you 
see, at Round Robin. Only we shall also have 
a party this evening.” 

Nelly Sackett came over early from the 
Cove; and then Tante had two more presents. 
For Nelly brought a great bowl of lobster 
salad from Uncle Eph and Aunt Polly. And 
she herself had made a wonderful rope of 
twine, in twenty intricate knots and twists, for 
Tante to use as a watch-chain. 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 


203 


After early supper Nelly retired with Anne 
to the boat house on the beach, where they 
could help one another to dress without being 
disturbed, and, as Anne said, where they could 
fish up more trimmings when they were 
needed. 

With much giggling they put on their bath- 
ing suits and adjusted their seaweed skirts 
which they had sewed firmly, each with a 
long trailing tail. Anne had fashioned two 
pretty loose caps of shells, which looked 
quaint on their heads, one covering curly red 
hair, the other perched on sea-weedy locks. 
On their bare arms the mermaids wore strings 
of coral beads and shells, and each carried in 
her hand a great conch shell which Uncle 
Eph had brought from some queer corner of 
the world. They made a very alluring pair 
of mermaids, just of a height, as they stole 
up the path together when the signal horn 
blew for the party to begin. 

When they peeped through the bushes they 
saw a strange company already gathered on 
the grass in front of Round Robin. In the 
middle of a little group about the flag-pole 


ROUND ROBIN 


stood a stately figure in red, white and blue. 
On her head was a red liberty cap, and in 
her hand she carried a horn of plenty. Be- 
hind her stood an old and very black man, 
with grinning white teeth and bushy hair. He 
was dressed in shabby old clothes and wore 
a broad-brimmed straw hat, and leaned on a 
stick. 

^^Tante must be Columbia,’^ whispered 
Nelly Sackett, “isn’t she lovely!” “But what 
is Hugh?” 

“I think he’s Uncle Remus,” guessed Anne. 
“This is his ^dark secret.’ Hugh is always 
talking about *Brer Rabbit, he lay low!* Let’s 
wait a moment and see the others come.” 

Two little Indians were frisking around the 
feet of Columbia, chasing a clown dog in a 
wonderful ruffled collar. It looked as if 
Doughboy’s costume would not last through 
the party, for it was already badly tattered. 
'^The Twins with their bows and arrows wanted 
to shoot; everybody. But a Wild West char- 
'acter, in a sombrero and leggings, with a red 
handkerchief knotted about his neck and a 
lasso in his hand, was trying to restrain them. 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 


205 


“Wow!” yelled Reddy as he dexterously 
whirled his lasso over Indian Freddie’s 
shoulders, bringing that youngster to the 
ground, much to his astonishment. “Don’t 
you be too rough with these strangers 1 It will 
never do to scalp a Fairy!” 

For out of the woods was gliding a beauti- 
ful creature in green drapery fringed with 
oak leaves, and with an oak garland on her 
long golden hair. A green veil fell over her 
shoulders and bare arms, which she waved 
like wings. The clown dog fawned at her 
feet in an adoring fashion. 

“I am the Spirit of the Woods,” said a gentle 
voice. No one but the English girl had a 
voice like that. It did indeed sound like the 
wind in the pine trees on a spring night. “The 
Indians ought to love me, for I furnish them 
with bark for their canoes and wood for their 
bows and tepee poles. And I sing the little 
papooses to sleep.” 

“Isn’t Cicely sweet?” said Nelly admir- 
ingly, and Anne agreed. She began to regret 
the Columbine costume she had given up, and 
glanced down at her make-shift rig with some 


206 


ROUND ROBIN 


misgiving. ^‘If I had worn the other I should 
easily be the finest/’ she thought. But Nelly 
Sackett had no such regret. “We will creep 
up, like the tide, last of all,” she whispered, 
squeezing Anne’s cold fingers. 

Now from opposite directions two figures 
emerged out of the woods. One was dressed 
in a simple brown dress, with a white apron, 
kerchief and cap, and carried a book in her 
hand, trying to look demure. The other was 
a pretty Italian peasant, with the brightest 
colors in her head-dress and embroidered 
apron. Long scarlet ear-rings — made of par- 
tridge berries — dangled on her shoulders. 
Norma had no difficulty in looking her part. 

“Well met!” said the little brown maid 
gravely. Nancy and Norma were the best 
actors of the party, and had prepared their 
speeches beforehand. “Thus you, the newest 
emigrant, meet the earliest, on Columbia’s 
ground.” Nancy dropped a curtsey to Norma. 
“I represent my ancestor Ruth who came over 
in the Mayflower/^ 

“You are the New England Conscience; 
but I am the Artistic Temperament,” smiled 



207 


I 



XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 209 

Norma. ‘‘You weren’t very cordial to me at 
first. But you are improving.” 

“Even so, I might teach you something still, 
of patience and courage and thrift. But I 
am trying to get rid of my prejudices, anyway. 
I do most awfully want to get what is best 
for my Country. I have always tried to do 
that, have I not, Columbia?” 

“Yes; but you are apt to set too much store 
by book-knowledge; and you’re apt to think 
that anyone who did not come in the May^ 
flower like yourself is the ‘scum of the earth!’ ” 
retorted Norma. 

“The Pilgrims made things ready for the 
later emigrants,” said Nancy. “But you do 
more complaining than we did.” 

“Come now!” said Columbia, “I must have 
no quarreling under my Flag. The Stars and 
Stripes give peace and shelter to all kinds of 
children. Miss Pilgrim, you must welcome 
all the later pilgrims who come, as you did, 
with a good heart and a high purpose. Some 
of them need your gifts. But some of them 
bring gifts that you needed.” 

“That is so,” said Nancy magnanimously. 


210 


ROUND ROBIN 


try to remember. But who are these 
noisy creatures? I think you are entertaining 
a good many disorderly persons, Mother Co- 
lumbia. You must look out!” 

‘They will have to obey my rules or they 
cannot stay at my party!” said Columbia. 
“But gaiety is not always disorder. It is sulki- 
ness that is unsafest.” 

“ *Gone with the raggle-taggle gypsies OT ** 
Voices singing, the click of bones and the 
twang of strings announced the arrival of two 
dancing, beribboned ones. Everybody but 
Doughboy applauded the two gypsies who 
now ^ capered into the circle. Doughboy 
strongly disapproved of the Romany. Victor 
Lanfranc and Beverly had conspired very 
successfully. The tall Victor had managed 
to turn his old khaki uniform into gay apparel 
wth the aid of ribbons and patches. Over 
his shoulder he wore Nancy’s red cape. He 
had borrowed Norma’s plaid sash and he had 
tied up his legs with crossed scarlet braid, in- 
stead of puttees. He looked very picturesque 
with his black mustache and a broad hat 
slouched over a red bathing cap. 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 


211 


Beverly had the corn-popper slung over her 
shoulder to represent a guitar, rubber bands 
stretched across it, twanging under her 
fingers. In a red table-cloth skirt, with a 
bath-towel apron and a scarlet sweater, and 
crowned with a waste-basket hat wreathed in 
daisies, she was a dashing Gipsy queen. 
There was a lull after their dance. ‘Tet’s 
go now,” whispered Anne. ^They are about 
all there now, I think.” 

Making a swimming motion with their 
arms the two mermaids glided into the moon- 
light, and were greeted with various cries 
from the group. ^^Hurrah!” “Look at the 
Mermaids!” ''Bravisstmar **Bow wow/'' 

Anne and Nelly swam around the group 
with their long tails trailing in a very effective 
fashion, to Doughboy’s great delight. Finally 
they dived down into the grass and lay shak- 
ing with laughter. For Doughboy had taken 
this as a special invitation to play. And their 
unrehearsed dive was the only way to stop his 
attachment to them. 

“Welcome, Sea Ladies!” Columbia hailed 
them. “Old Ocean and his powers are the 


212 


ROUND ROBIN 


best friends of Columbia. She could not do 
without you.’’ 

“They are dressed alike, only one is red and 
one is green,” said Freddie. “Are they lob- 
sters, Mother?” 

“They look just alike; only one is curly and 
one is weedy,” said Eddie. “That is so!” one 
and another of the group agreed in surprise. 
“I didn’t notice it before. Or is it just the 
moonlight?” 

“They might be sisters,” said Nancy won- 
deringly. “Nelly and Anne!”- 

“Do we look alike?” whispered Nelly 
Sackett rather wistfully to Anne. 

“I don’t know,” said Anne, trying not to 
look annoyed. “Costumes do change people 
a lot.” They sat down in the grass side by 
side, with their tails gracefully curled under 
them out of Doughboy’s reach. 

“Everybody present?” asked Columbia. 
“No, ma’am,” said Uncle Remus. “One chile 
missing. Hello! Here it comes!” 

A funny little noise like a bumble bee was 
heard, one could not say from which direc- 
tion. It grew louder and louder, and presently 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 213 

into the circle hopped the strangest little 
round figure, with brown legs, brown body, 
brown arms. It seemed a weird old gnome 
with a long grey beard, a hooked red nose and 
a pointed cap. He was blowing on some in- 
strument that might be a pipe. 

“It’s a Brownie!” shouted Freddie. Eddie 
cowered closer to his mother’s skirts. “Is he 
real?” he asked. “Where did he come from?” 

Indeed the Brownie was so real that no one 
would have recognized him. He went danc- 
ing around the circle, teasing the nearly 
frantic Doughboy, then disappeared into the 
woods. “Oh he’s gone! I wanted to see him 
some more!” cried Freddie. On the word 
the Brownie reappeared, dancing right up to 
Freddie and tossing a cone into his lap. An- 
other cone hit Eddie on the nose. “It’s 
Gilda!” he cried. “I know Gilda now!” and 
off the two little Indians raced in a wild pur- 
suit of the Brownie. Presently they brought 
him back a laughing prisoner. 

“We’ll burn him at the stake!” yelled the 
Indians. 

“Cannot burn ze kobold!” cried Gilda with 


m 


ROUND ROBIN 


a squeaky voice that was still funnier with 
her accent. 

‘^How did you do it, Gilda? Where did 
you get the costume?” cried the girls sur- 
rounding her in admiration. never saw 
anything so perfect as that nose!” 

“Ze Pilgrimette did it!” lisped the Brownie, 
hopping on one leg and pointing elfishly at 
Nancy. “She found ze long beard growing 
on ze trees. She made my nose, so crooked 
and pink, wiz ze purple veins, out of a strange 
— ^what you call? — a leaf.” 

“It is a pitcher-plant leaf,” explained 
Nancy. “I found one day that it would make 
the most perfect nose. And I was just crazy 
to wear it myself. But of course I had to 
represent the Pilgrims. And Gilda makes 
such a nice little round Brownie, doesn’t she?” 

“Columbia couldn’t get along without her 
fairy- folk too,” said Xante, smiling at the 
queer group. “I am glad they came with the 
other emigrants. Now let’s have a Virginia 
reel in the moonlight.” 

So, like the Owl and the Pussy Cat — 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 


215 


^^Hand in hand on the edge of the strand, 
They danced by the light of the moonf* 

Xante and Uncle Remus leading off. It 
was a very pretty sight, with the bright moon 
making strange long shadows under the trees. 
But if any of the Harbor folk had happened 
to stray in this direction, without being warned, 
they would certainly have thought the people 
of Camp Round Robin had lost their minds! 

After the Virginia reel, Xante led the band 
in a grand march about the place, and so back 
to Round Robin for refreshments. Every 
party in Xante’s camp always ended with re- 
freshments. When they entered the bungalow 
they were surprised to find that it was not 
empty. By the fire sat a figure, tending it 
and brushing up the ashes.? He was indistinct 
at first. But gradually they made out it was 
a man in a tall hat and swallow-tailed coat. 

‘Why, it’s Uncle Sam!” cried several voices. 
“Good for Uncle Sam!” 

“It’s Uncle Eph!” announced Nelly Sackett 
in the same breath. Xhe tall figure rose 
gravely and bowed to Columbia. Captain 


216 


ROUND ROBIN 


Sackett’s face was indeed like the pictures of 
Uncle Sam, with his little chin-whisker, lank 
grey hair and long, humorous face. 

^^Good evenin’, friends,” said he. come 
to bring the lady her birthday cake. Aunt 
Polly made it as a s’prise.” 

“Oh, thank you. Uncle Sam!” Tante took 
the beautiful frosted cake, with her initials 
“R. B.” marked in the first red raspberries. 
“How nice of you to come over!” 

“I jest had to see those costumes!” chuckled 
Uncle Sam. “You certainly did look fine out 
there in the moonlight!” 

While they ate salad and cake and Gilda’s 
delicious Belgian fudge, and while they drank 
Xante’s health in steaming cocoa, Uncle Eph 
told them about his costume. “This old hat 
has been up in my attic for a hundred years, 
I reckon. Belonged to my grandfather. He 
was a deacon and a soldier too, and this coat 
sorter combined the idea of both, I guess.” 
He was watching Nelly and Anne as they 
passed in front of him together. “My! don’t 
they look alike!” he muttered. “I never 


XANTE’S BIRTHDAY PARTY 


217 


would have believed it! Coming home with 
me, Nelly?” he asked as he rose to go. 

^^No, Pm going to stay with Anne,” said 
Nelly happily. And he left her there, looking 
almost as happy himself. 


CHAPTER XVI 


NEIGHBORS 

O NCE every year Round Robin gave an 
entertainment for the children of Old 
Harbor. The Camp was rather far 
from the village, so they always had the 
“show^’ in the Casino, a little wooden building 
which the summer residents had put up close 
by the steamer landing. On Sunday the 
Casino was used for services by different 
groups all day long; early in the morning 
Norma, Gilda, and Victor went to hear Mass; 
a little later the Batchelders and Cicely had 
their Communion; then there was Morning 
Prayer which many other summer people be- 
sides Beverly and Dick attended. And Sun- 
day evening the Casino was filled by a large 
congregation in which Anne joined with 
Nelly and Captain Sackett. Dick called it a 
“Round Robin Church.’’ Maybe some day all 
218 


NEIGHBORS 


219 


the Churches will have one getting-together 
service. 

During the week the Casino was used for all 
sorts of good times. So here it was that Round 
Robin was going to give a show for the school 
children. The program was practically de- 
cided; Norma would sing, Hugh would 
black-up and do a negro song and dance; 
Nancy would tell a fairy story. But they 
needed one more ^^act.” Then Nelly had her 
great inspiration. ^^Anne! You dress up in 
that sweet Columbine costume and do your 
dance. You said you danced Columbine at 
a party?’^ 

‘^Oh, I can’t!’’ protested Anne in horror. 
‘T don’t know the children here. They don’t 
like me. I heard the Maguire children say 
so one morning when they brought the eggs.” 

^^They will like you when they know you; 
when they see you in that lovely dress!” cried 
Nelly eagerly. And Nancy added her persua- 
sion, saying it would be just the thing to illus- 
trate the fairy-story she was getting ready to 
tell — about a beautiful fairy who danced at 
the King’s ball. At first Anne was sure she 


220 


ROUND ROBIN 


could not do it. But finally she consented. 

suppose it is time I did do something for 
my neighbors,” she said, with poor grace. 

And Columbine was the hit of the show! 

The hall was full of mothers with their lit- 
tle children; about fifty of them, all “natives” 
of Old Harbor, or at any rate permanent 
residents there. The “summer people” had 
been invited, too. But they seemed too busy 
to come. Anne remembered that she had been 
asked to the Round Robin party last year, but 
had not had time even to answer the invitation. 

Most of the little faces that gazed eagerly 
at the doings on the platform were of old 
Yankee types. But there were several with 
the broad, good natured features of the Irish, 
like the four little Maguires. And there were 
several handsome dark French Canadians; 
several Poles and Finns, whose fathers worked 
in the stone quarries. 

They loved Norma’s singing, and applauded 
her rapturously. They burst into squeals of 
mirth over Hugh and his funny dancing, 
blacked up as he was and wearing his Unc’ 
Remus costume. They sat very quiet during 


NEIGHBORS 


221 


Nancy’s fairy-tale, breathless with interest to 
see what was going to happen to the plain 
little beggar-girl who was invited to the 
King’s ball, because she had been kind to a 
Pussy Cat, who was really the King’s Fairy 
Godmother. 

Anne sat on a little stool at the back of the 
stage while Nancy told the story. Over her 
Columbine dress she wore Xante’s long black 
cape that covered her from top to toe, with 
the hood drawn over her hair. 

“This is Goldie the little beggar girl her- 
self,” Nancy finished her story, stepping aside 
and pointing a wand at Anne. “Now, I am 
the Fairy-Godmother — Pussy Cat, who met 
the beggar girl in the wood. Rise, Goldie, 
and show me how you will dance at the King’s 
ball to-night. You will dance so beautifully 
that he will invite you to be the Queen !” 

Nancy waved the wand, and Anne rose 
slowly, throwing off the cape as she did so. 
There she stood in the beautiful sparkling 
dress, a crown of roses on her hair; in 
dainty stockings and slippers. One, two, 
three! Beverly at the piano, who had played 


222 


ROUND ROSm 


the accompaniment for Norma’s songs, now 
began a spirited waltz, and Anne danced her 
fairy dance on the tips of her toes, circling 
and pirouetting like a real fairy. 

^‘Oh!” cried the children rapturously. 
^^Oh!” They had never seen anything like it. 
No professional “shows” ever came to their 
remote little village. “Do it again!” They 
begged, so fervently that Anne had to yield. 
With cheeks flushed at their pleasure, she re- 
peated her steps, better even than at first. So 
that Norma cried out as she danced off the 
stage into the dressing-room, “Brava, Anne! 
I didn’t know you had it in you!” 

“Aren’t they dear children?” said Anne. “I 
didn’t know there were ^o miny of them, and 
such pretty little things!” 

“You’ll have to come out and let them see 
you just as you are,” said Nancy, delighted 
with the success of her illustrated fairy-tale. 
“They are just crazy, Anne !” So after Norma 
had sung another song, and Hugh had de- 
clared the “show” ended, the performers came 
out in front and made friends with the chil- 


NEIGHBORS 


223 


dren. At first the little ones were shy of Anne, 
but gathered about her in an admiring group. 

^^Are you really a Fairy?” lisped one little 
tot, touching a fold of the tarleton dress. “Can 
you make my dress look like that?” 

“I wish I could!” said Anne, stooping over 
the baby, and patting her yellow curls. 
“Where do you live. Dear?” 

“We live at the lighthouse,” volunteered 
the baby’s elder sister. “She’s Patty and I’m 
Alice Hopkins. We used to see you riding on 
a pony,” she added shyly. “But you looked 
cross, then. You didn’t look like a nice Fairy. 
Do you wear this all the time now?” 

These were the nearest neighbors to Idle- 
wild, except the Sackctts. But Anne had 
never noticed them till now. Their father 
had care of the great light that made the Har- 
bor safe for boats. 

The other children pressed close to Anne, 
eager to feel her costume and see if she were 
real. One little black-haired Finn stepped 
up. “Can’t I have one o’ them?*^ he asked, 
pointing to the flowers on Anne’s head. 

“Of course you can!” she said, and taking 


224 


ROUND ROBIN 


off the wreath she untied it and gave a flower 
to each child as far as they would go around. 
“They will bring you good luck,” she de- 
clared. 

Little Tom Maguire, pushing forward, 
boasted to the other children. “I know her! 
I seen her washin’ dishes when I went to the 
Camp ’tother day. She didn’t see me, though !” 

'"She never washed dishes!” protested Alice 
Hopkins. “N ever I” 

“When the beggar girl went to be Queen,” 
Nancy added a postscript to her story for their 
benefit, “of course she took right hold of the 
housekeeping in the palace. And after that 
it was always done right. Because if you keep 
house in a fairy way, it is fun. That’s what 
the Fairy Godmother brought Goldie to the 
palace for — to make things jollier all around.” 

(“Good for you, Nancy!” Beverly squeezed 
her hand on the sly.) 

The mothers were talking and whispering 
together in the back of the hall, pleased to 
see their children so happy. Some of them 
had recognized Anne. 

“It’s that Poole girl!” one exclaimed in 


NEIGHBORS 


225 


amazement. “That proud piece! I didn’t 
know she could unbend so far.” 

“It’s the childher done it,” observed Mrs. 
Maguire with her hands on her hips, nodding 
wisely. “If she loves the childher, she’ll be 
all right, believe me; rich though she may be, 
and spoiled, no doubt. Look at her now wid 
me Bridget in her arms! She’ll spoil that 
swate dress of hers, entirely! But I daresay 
she can get another one aisy-like.” 

The children were loth to go away. But 
finally the hall was cleared, after Anne had 
made promises to come to see them all in turn, 
and Nancy had agreed to tell them some day 
what happened to the Beggar Girl who be- 
came Queen, and who taught the people how 
to put magic into chores. 

The teacher of the little village school 
lingered for a word with the Round Robin. 
‘Well!” she congratulated them. “You cer- 
tainly did give those children a good time. 
I don’t believe you realize all it means to them. 
They haven’t much to exercise their imagina- 
tion on, of course. It was a great idea to give 
them an illustrated fairy-story.” 


226 


ROUND ROBIN 


Nancy said she thought they were unusually 
attractive children. 

wish I could do more for them,”, said 
Miss Merritt wistfully. “In the winter after 
you all go away there’s nobody but me who 
can spare time to do much for them. I wish 
I knew more ! I wish I knew about medicines, 
for instance. We are healthy folks here, on 
the whole; but things do happen, of course. 
You know, we haven’t any doctor here in the 
winter. Doctor Black goes away when the 
summer people do.” 

Anne looked at her in horror. In Mr. 
Poole’s house the doctor was always running 
in and out at the least “symptom” exhibited 
by one of the family. Her step-mother was 
continually ailing. 

“What do you do when anybody is sick?” 
she asked Miss Merritt. 

“We do the best we know how,” answered 
the teacher. “Most of the women know about 
herbs and simple remedies. Some of them 
are quite skilled nurses, indeed. But it’s pretty 
hard sometimes!” 

“I should think sol” cried Anne. “Some- 


NEIGHBORS 


227 


thing ought to be done. I wonder if Father 
knows ?” 

‘^Children in ’most any place need more 
than they get,” said Miss Merritt pathetically. 
“If only all the summer people would be in- 
terested in these little neighbors of theirs. For 
they are neighbors, even if it is only for a 
few weeks.” 

The Round Robin agreed that this was an- 
other case where a “getting together” was 
needed. And Anne Poole said to herself — 
“I will ask Father if I can’t help those chil- 
dren some way.” But she wished she need not 
have to ask; Father was so queer nowadays! 


CHAPTER XVII 


MYSTERY 

E ver since the adventure of the Round 
Robin on the mountain Captain Sackett 
had been uneasy. It is not pleasant to 
know that there are lawbreakers in your 
neighborhood. Hunting deer out of season 
was bad enough. But to think of a careless 
rifle pointed at any creature in brown — who 
might have two legs instead of four! The 
Captain shuddered, whenever he thought of 
Beverly’s narrow escape, and of Nelly’s risk. 
Nobody in Old Harbor would shoot deer out 
of season; the Captain was sure of that. He 
was inclined to think it must be some passing 
stranger who had landed from a boat. Or 
perhaps it was some shepherd from a neigh- 
boring island where sheep were turned out 
for the summer, with one lonely man to keep 
them company. The exiles on those far 
228 


MYSTERY 


2^9 

islands who saw no human being for weeks 
together were apt to get hungry for mischief 
once in a while. 

^‘We’ll keep an eye open,” said the Captain 
to Hugh and Victor after one of their troubled 
parleys. ^^Don’t let’s scare the little girls about 
it. Only they mustn’t go alone on the moun- 
tain again.” 

The young men went warily through the 
woods and scoured the mountain and shore for 
traces of the deer-chaser, but to no purpose. 
Even the deer seemed to have disappeared. 
As to the cave, Dick sometimes believed the 
ocean had swallowed it up. 

Anne kept her secret about the ‘‘haunted 
hut.” The more she thought about the omi- 
nous stranger’s threatening words, the less she 
felt inclined to risk his revenge. How ugly 
he had looked! And how wickedly he had 
hissed that word '^Scalawag/'' Sometimes 
Anne wished she had told everything to Tante 
or the Captain in the first place. But now she 
was ashamed to confess how much she had 
been afraid. 

One day, about a week after Tante’s party. 


230 


ROUND ROBIN 


Reddy came to Anne with an important air. 
“Come out on the rocks!” he whispered. 
“I’ve got a secret to tell you. Hurry up with 
these dishes.” And seizing a clean dish-towel 
he began to rub the plates at a great rate. 

“Goodness, Dick!” cried Anne with a 
laugh. “You’ll rub holes in the granite ware 
if you go at it like that.” 

“Well, hurry,” said Dick. “I can’t wait 
But you must promise not to tell.” Anne 
promised, and presently they stole away to the 
rocks. With much mystery Dick went about 
telling her his secret 

“Well, I’ve discovered something,” he be- 
gan. “And because you were partly in it al- 
ready, I thought we ought to have it a secret 
together.” 

Anne was pleased. “What is it all about?” 
she asked eagerly. 

“Well; you still insist that your cave was 
south of here, do you?” 

“Of course it is,” she answered, looking 
bored. “Is that all it’s about?” 

“No, listen. Suppose that old Geezicks 
took you home in a circle? Then your cave 


MYSTERY 


231 


might be north of here, mightn’t it? He might 
have gone all around Robin Hood’s barn, as 
well as Round Robin, mightn’t he?” 

suppose so!” said Anne. /^And it mightn’t 
be so far, either. I didn’t see how we went.^ 
He wouldn’t let me look. He wanted to con- 
fuse me. Oh, Dick! You are clever!” 

Dick chuckled. ^^Clever dog, me! Little 
old Sherlock Holmes! Well, I think I have 
found your cave, not two miles from here the 
other way.” 

‘‘So near? But why haven’t you found it 
before?” Anne stared in wonder. 

“I never went that way. There’s no path, 
and it is boggy by land. Then by sea it is 
full of rips and bars, the worst place along 
the coast, I guess. I took the canoe.” 

“Did you see my man?” Anne asked eagerly, 
but Dick shook his head. “I didn’t explore 
much. I thought we’d go together, since the 
cave was really your find.” Anne guessed how 
much Dick would have liked this adventure 
for his very own, and she was touched. “That 
was nice of you, Reddy!” she said. “When 
shall we go?” 


232 


ROUND ROBIN 


“Right now, if you say so,” he suggested 
eagerly. Anne hesitated. “Do you suppose 
it is safe for us to go alone?” she asked. “I 
haven’t told anybody the whole story.” Then 
of course Dick made her tell him everything; 
about the hut in the woods and the story that 
it was “haunted,” and the threat of the tall 
stranger. Only she did not tell him the name 
he had called her father. 

Dick whistled when the tale was finished, 
and his eyes shone. “Great!” he exclaimed. 
“It sounds like something exciting. Of course 
we will go by ourselves and ferret out the 
mystery. Of course I can take care of you! 
But we will be careful, yes. What will Hugh 
and Victor say, eh?” 

Dick was anxious to recover the prestige 
he had lost by that laughable fiasco of the 
clambake. He wanted to get even with Hugh 
and Victor, who had never ceased to tease him 
about it. 

Anne had some misgivings. But she was 
not willing that Dick should go without her. 
And she too thought it would be nice to be 


MYSTERY 


233 


the heroine of a real adventure, — if adventure 
it was to be. 

They pushed off from the landing in the 
shadow of the fir-trees. The water of the bay 
was as still as quicksilver, just right for pad- 
dling, and Dick was an expert canoeist. He 
knew when it was safe to keep off-shore ; when 
one might dare the neighborhood of those 
sharp and cruel rocks that guarded the cliffs. 

^^Now you must keep calm,” said Dick in 
his mock-hero manner. ^^And whatever you 
do, don’t scream*” 

“The idea!” said Anne. “Of course I 
sha’n’t scream any more than you will. I 
didn’t scream before.” 

In ten minutes or so they had rounded 
several points, and had passed a cove or two 
which they had seen before. Then the cliffs 
grew higher; the mountain seemed to come 
down close to the water. A series of closely- 
packed islands near the shore looked as if they 
had toppled from the cliff in early days. It 
was a wickedly dangerous place for boats. 
One felt that it was wise to keep outside these 
islands. But Dick had already investigated 


«34 


ROUND ROBIN 


in his light canoe, and knew that it was safe 
enough for him. 

“I’m going in here,” he said suddenly, 
rounding the end of what turned out to be an 
island; though at a distance it had seemed 
part of the solid shore. Behind this island 
was -another, the edges “overlapping” as it 
were, so as completely to conceal what lay be- 
yond. Around this too Dick curved. And 
lo, there they were in the entrance to a narrow 
slit of a cove, running slantwise into the land, 
in such a way that no one would ever suspect 
its existence, unless he should come upon it 
as Dick had done, in a stealthy, threading 
canoe. The Indians might have known it long 
ago. But there seemed no reason why white 
men should ever find it, except by an accident. 
At the head of the cove was a beach of sand 
strewn with pebbles; quite deserted. 

“Well?” said Dick, waiting for Anne to 
exclaim. “Well,” she answered, slowly, “is 
this my beach? You know I didn’t really see 
anything except from the shore. Oh yes, 
there’s the cave!” 

As the canoe touched the sand, there to the 


MYSTERY 


235 


left yawned the cave. Anne pointed to the 
great entrance of rocks, black and romantic- 
looking. The pair stole up to it very cau- 
tiously, half expecting something to dart out 
at them. But no, it seemed quite empty. Only 
a few boxes lay about, with broken sides ; some 
ropes and pots of paint; empty gasolene cans; 
jugs, broken bottles, a sack of straw. ^‘This 
might be to make somebody a bed,” said Dick. 
‘^But it hasn’t been slept on yet.” 

The cave was some ten feet deep with a 
roof high enough for a tall man to stand up- 
right. There was a hole through the roof in 
one place, a natural chimney, and it looked 
as if fires had been built there. 

^Tt’s a regular pirate cave !” said Dick. ‘‘But 
there aren’t any interesting relics at all; not 
even a powder-keg or a cutlass.” 

“You really thought there were pirates?” 
said Anne. “Well, I didn’t.” 

“That man was up to some mischief, 
though,” argued Dick. “He couldn’t be a 
fisherman. There are no lobster-pots around, 
or fishing nets, or floats. Though it seems 
a likely cove for lobsters, too.” 


236 


ROUND ROBIN 


^‘Here’s the path I came down,” said Anne, 
who had been investigating. “It goes up 
through these bushes. You wouldn’t notice it 
if you didn’t know just where to look.” 

“Let’s follow it and see if we can find that 
hut in the wood,” said Dick. “I’ll never be- 
lieve you weren’t dreaming, unless we do.” 

“All right,” said Anne with an inward 
tremor, “but we must be very careful.” 

“Let me go ahead,” urged Dick. 

They climbed the steep path which soon 
jplunged into thick woods, as Anne remem- 
bered, broad and easy to follow. “Looks as 
if it was used pretty often,” observed Dick. 
Then Anne pulled him by the sleeve. “There’s 
the hut!” she whispered, pointing. “You 
don’t see it till you are almost on it. I told 
lyou so.” 

There was no smoke coming out of the win- 
dow now, but Dick motioned her to be 
cautious. They crouched low in the bushes 
and kept still for several minutes. There was 
not a sound about the place. The door was 
closed and the litter outside was cleared away. 
It looked indeed like the deserted cabin the 


MYSTERY 


237 


tall stranger had called it. But was it 
‘‘haunted’7 

going to peek in at the window/’ 
whispered Dick. Anne followed him, crawl- 
ing on hands and knees. Cautiously they 
raised themselves and looked in. The hut 
was empty of persons, but full of a disarray 
of things. The one dirty window gave 
little light, but they gradually made out the 
strange, untidy details. In the wall were two 
bunks for sleeping. At one side stood a small 
stove, the pipe going up through the roof. A 
rifle hung on a bracket of deer antlers. The 
skin of a deer hung on a chair back. Dirty 
plates and knives and tumblers were scattered 
over the table. The rest of the room was 
filled with a mess of jugs and bottles, kegs and 
kettles — the strange outfit of some trade which 
the girl did not recognize. 

^^Moonshiners!” whispered Dick excitedly. 
Beverly would have known what he meant, 
for there has always been this lawless business 
in the southern mountains. 

^What are Moonshiners, Dick?” asked 
Anne, shivering at his tone. 


238 


ROUND ROBIN 


“Why, they make liquor in secret and sell 
it in secret. It’s against the law,” said Dick. 

“How awful ! And he dared call my father 
a Scalawag!” thought Anne indignantly. But 
it did not matter now. You couldn’t take the 
word of a lawbreaker about anything. 

“What’s the name printed on that old pack- 
ing-case?” asked Dick, whose eyes were grow- 
ing used to the dim light of the hut. “Can 
you see, Anne?” They both pressed their 
noses close to the window panes. 

“C. F.” spelled Anne. 

“P-O-O-L-E!” went on Dick. “Why 
Anne!” he gasped in surprise. 

“C. F. Poole!” repeated Anne. “That’s 
Father’s name. What can it mean?” 

“Maybe they just got the box off your father 
somehow,” said Dick uncomfortably. He be- 
gan to wish they had not come. “Let’s go 
away, Anne.” 

But Anne had spied something else. On 
the floor under the window was a soiled and 
empty envelope. It was addressed to P. 
Leveen in a neighboring town. But the writ- 
ing was Mr. Poole’s; the date just a week ago; 


MYSTERY 


2S9 


and the mark was that of a Canadian city. He 
could not write to her, but he could write to 
this foreign-sounding moonshiner! Anne did 
not mention this discovery to Dick. But it 
troubled her greatly. It fitted in disagreeably 
with her forebodings. 

“We’d better get away,” said Dick. “Moon- 
shiners are as bad as pirates when you spy 
their secrets. We must tell Cap’n Sackett 
and have them smoked out, while they’re at 
the game.” 

“Yes,” agreed Anne. “I ought to have told 
him before. That may be the very rifle that 
nearly killed Beverly!” she thought with a 
shudder. “And what will they find out about 
Father?” Her only comfort was that Captain 
Sackett himself was to be the investigator. 

They hurried down the path as fast as they 
could, and Anne got into the canoe. 

“Well, we’ve discovered something all 
right,” triumphed Dick as he pushed off the 
canoe and crept into his own seat. “It might 
be more exciting if we had met those fellows 
up there in the hut. But I guess it was just 
as well for our health that we didn’t 


240 


ROUND ROBIN 


He held his paddle poised and stared 
fixedly out to sea. Anne followed his gaze. 
A motor boat was making her way in towards 
the beach, rapidly. There were two men 
aboard. The canoe lay still in the shadow of 
the trees while the boat disappeared around 
an island. Then, before it should reappear 
in the cove, Dick gave some swift strokes of 
the paddle that took them out behind another 
reef. Evidently they had not been seen. The 
steersman was busy threading the narrow, dif- 
ficult channel. The other had seemed to be 
absorbed in a newspaper. Anne had had a 
chance to see both faces clearly. 

“The tall man is the one who brought me 
home!” she whispered. “And the other one 
with the dark face must be the hunter who 
nearly shot Beverly!” The pair gazed at one 
another. They saw the mysterious boat re- 
enter the cove and disappear again. “They’re 
both moonshiners,” said Dick. 

“One of the two is P. Leveen,” thought 
Anne, “and Father writes to him!” 

The Round Robin was of course greatly ex- 
cited when they told the story of their adven- 


MYSTERY 


241 


ture. They could hardly wait to hear what 
Captain Sackett would say. But Tante de- 
clared they must not bother him that night. 
He was busy about something. Dick was dis- 
appointed also because Hugh and Victor had 
disappeared upon some mysterious errand, 
and he could not excite their envy with his 
tale. Indeed, even Tante seemed preoccupied, 
as if she had more important things upon her 
mind. But what could be more important 
than the arrest of these moonshiners? 

“Any mail for me?” asked Dick, and was 
told No. Anne did not even bother to ask 
about mail for herself. She had quite given 
up hoping for a letter from home. And now 
she did not want one! 

Soon after supper Tante excused herself 
and retired to her room with the daily papers 
and a packet of mail. Even the Twins could 
not help seeing that something was troubling 
Tante ; but no one could tell Anne what it was. 

“Ever since the Veterans brought the papers 
she has looked worried,” said Beverly. “We 
haven’t seen the news, so we don’t know what 
it may be. I hope it isn’t another war! Hugh 


242 


ROUND ROBIN 


and Victor went right back to the village, 
without waiting for supper. I wonder what 
it is?” 

Anne sighed. “I always seem to be wait- 
ing,” she said. “I wanted to ask Tante some- 
thing. But perhaps to-morrow will do as 
well.” 

At that same moment Tante was reading 
the newspaper, open at a page where a black 
head line read — “Failure of Great Banking 
Firm! Treasurer flees to Canada! Involves 
thousands in ruin!” Below was the picture 
of a blonde, well-dressed man whom Tante 
had seen hundreds of times sailing in his yacht 
or riding in his automobile in this very neigh- 
borhood, but to whom she had never spoken 
a word. 

Presently she came downstairs looking 
rather pale. “Let’s have a song before bed, 
shall we?” she said. So they sat quietly on 
the piazza while Norma sang a slumber song, 
to quiet their minds before sleep. 


CHAPTER XVIII 


FIRE! 

I T was a warm July night. The Camp lay 
quiet and serene, everybody sound asleep. 
The heat of the day, which had been un- 
usual for the region, had brought out the 
spicy scent of the woods, and mingled it with 
the salty fragrance which makes the essence 
of Maine. But into the natural blend of out- 
doors came creeping another odor, not ex- 
actly unpleasant, but very different; a stinging 
disquiet for which the forest creatures have 
no name, only an instinctive fear. For it is 
no friendly fragrance, but one that spells 
danger and death. It was the smell of wood 
smoke. 

The young men in their tents further south 
than Round Robin were the first to get the 
tang. They turned over uneasily in their 
sleep. .Then Hugh sat up on his cot and 

243 


244 


ROUND ROBIN 


sniffed. He was wide awake in a moment, 
like a true soldier, and jumped out of bed. 
“Fire!” he thought. And his first fear was 
that the hearth-blaze at Round Robin had 
caught the bungalow. With dread at heart 
he hurried out of the tent and ran up the path 
to his mother’s camp. But he soon saw that 
the smoke was not coming from that direction. 
The slight wind was from the south, and it 
brought with it a dense cloud of smoke, drift- 
ing through the trees. The fire was not far 
away. 

Meantime Victor had wakened and was 
pulling on his clothes, wondering what had 
become of his tent-mate, and fearing the 
worst; when Hugh returned to tell Victor 
what he had found out. “The camp’s all 
right,” he said. “But there is a big fire some- 
where in the neighborhood; at the Harbor, 
I think.” 

Dick’s tent was empty. But even while 
they were calling him he came running in, all 
excitement. “It’s Idlewild I” he cried. “The 
whole plant is burning. It’s a great show 


FIRE 


245 


from the hill. Hurry up, fellows!” And he 
was off again. 

^We might do something to help,” said 
Victor catching up an axe. “Is there a fire 
company, or anything?” 

“There is a little hand-engine,” said Hugh. 
“But I doubt if it can do much if the fire 
has got a good headway, since they have 
a long way to come. Let’s hurry.” 

“Oh, Hugh! What is it?” a girl’s voice in- 
terrupted him. It was Nancy, disheveled, and 
dressed in a mackintosh. Behind her came 
Cicely with a lantern. “We thought at first 
Round Robin was on fire,” she said breath- 
lessly. “Then we suspected you chaps had set 
the woods afire down here. So we came to 
see. But it is further off, isn’t it? The sky 
is all red. You can see it from the top win- 
dows of the bungalow. Tante and the Twins 
are looking at it.” 

“It is Idlewild burning,” said Hugh 
gravely. “We are going up to help. You two 
run home and keep Anne from worrying, if 
you can.” 

“Run home indeed!” retorted Nancy in- 


246 


ROUND ROBIN 


dignantly. “Don’t you suppose we are going 
with you? We don’t see a fire every day. And 
if it’s Idlewild ” 

“Is it Idlewild?” at the word Anne ap- 
peared, breathless, with Beverly behind her. 
They were both dressed, and both carried 
flash-lights. And they were both very much 
excited. 

“Goodness!” muttered Hugh. “This is no 
time for Round Robins to be hopping around, 
in the middle of the night. I’m sorry, Anne. 
But you ought to be glad that Idlewild is 
empty, anyway.” 

“Yes,” said she, “even the pets are gone. 

I want to go and see the last of it, if it is 
burning up.” 

“Come along the road, then. It’s getting 
a little lighter, and there’s still some moon.” 
Hugh and Victor took the girls in charge and , 
hurried them as fast as they could toward the 
direction of the fire. 

Poor, splendid Idlewild! It was a pitiful ' 
sight, as all fires are, when so much care and 
thought and labor and money go up in smoke. 
The whole sky was lit up with a red glare, 


FIRE 


247 


and columns of smoke were pouring out of 
the roof of the house. Every little while there 
was a crash as a wall fell, and a leap of flame 
would follow. The little hand-engine from 
the Harbor was already there, and a band of 
stout men were ready to help hand the water- 
buckets. But the water-works at Idlewild 
were out of commission; the fire had caught 
in several places and had made too much 
headway already. There was scarcely any- 
thing that could be done, but try to prevent 
it from spreading to the woods. 

A crowd had gathered to see the fire. 
People were constantly streaming up from the 
village in groups or singly, and they gossiped 
excitedly among themselves, commenting on 
the fire and on recent news. Victor and Hugh 
left the girls together near a group of women, 
and ran to help with the buckets. 

‘There’s Reddy!” cried Nancy, pointing. 
Dick was flying around in the smoke helping 
Captain Sackett and the other men remove 
the contents of some of the smaller buildings. 
For it looked as if the whole plant was 
doomed. 


248 


ROUND ROBIN 


“The flames are coming out of my windows 
now!” said Anne to Beverly. “All my pretty 
rooms burned up! I shall never see them 
again.” But she did not feel as badly about 
it as she would have done two months ago, 
had she known what was to happen. “It seems 
like the end of everything,” she said. But 
Beverly answered: 

“Oh no! Maybe it is only a beginning.” 
Beverly did not know just what she meant; 
but it sounded comforting. And Anne seemed 
to like the idea. A woman was speaking in 
a high voice just in front of her: 

“They say it must have been set. It started 
in a dozen places at once. Somebody hated 
him pretty bad.” 

“I guess there was more’n one!” another 
woman spoke bitterly. “He never done no 
good to this place. Just feathered his own 
nest, he did.” 

Were they talking about Anne’s father? 
Someone jostled her and she lost Beverly in 
the crowd. 

“How do you think the fire caught?” a 
summer cottager was asking the question of 


FIRE 


^9 


a fisherman in tarpaulin and slickers who had 
fought the fire till he was exhausted and now 
rested on the handle of his axe. 

^‘Fire was sot,” said the man. ‘^Cap’n 
Sackett’s got an old Indian woman in charge. 
They caught her hangin’ around the place 
just after the fire was discovered. Couldn’t 
say what she was up to. Cap’n thinks she may 
have done it.” 

^^Sal Seguin!” thought Anne. “I don’t be- 
lieve she did it.” 

“Poole had enemies enough in this town. 
But I don’t know a feller mean enough to do 
this trick,” said another man. “Look how 
they’re all tryin’ to help now — some of the 
very ones he let in for a fraud! There’s Doc. 
Right, and Lonny Maguire.” 

“What does he mean?” thought Anne. 
“Fraud? Has someone been doing some- 
thing dishonest?” 

“He was a mean cur,” said another fisher- 
man, lounging up to this group, and never no- 
ticing Anne crouching behind them. “I allers 
thought so. Anybody who would drive his 
neighbors off land that had allers been free — ^ 


250 


ROUND ROBIN 


that ain’t American, I say. Well, we can walk 
on it all we want after to-night, I guess. Poole 
will be walkin’ elsewhere!” 

^Wes, they say he’ll have to go to prison for 
what he done,” said the first man. ‘^He took 
^all my wife’s sister’s savings of twenty years* 
And she’s a widder with five children!” 

^‘He done me out of a thousand dollars,” 
growled another slouching figure. ^^I’m glad 
his house is gone! I hated to see it here.” 

“I guess Poole’s own children won’t starve,” 
said a woman’s shrill voice. “He’ll take care 
of that!” 

“How many’s he got?” 

“Only two; a baby an’ that proud, stuck-up 
■piece who used to ride around last summer, 
don’t you know? They say she ” 

“Oh, she ain’t so bad!” One of the women 
|who had seen Anne dance had inter- 
rupted. But Anne moved hastily away be- 
fore she heard more. She fancied one of the 
men was looking at her as if he recognized 
Poole’s daughter. She stumbled along in the 
dark which was now lighting into a grey 
dawn, thinking vaguely that she would find 


FIRE 


251 


Cap’n Sackett and ask him why he suspected 
Sal Seguin, and what all these strange sayings 
meant. She passed behind the garage and 
greenhouse, the vegetable garden all dry and 
weedy. Between her and Idlewild was the 
little hollow containing the old spring-house 
and a tomb-like structure of stone, built into 
the side of the hollow, that was the ice-house 
and cellar. Anne remembered it as window- 
less and mysterious, lined with sawdust — at 
least the part she knew. There was another 
part that was kept locked and only Mr. Poole 
and the butler held keys. 

Anne was amazed to see the door of the 
ice-house open, and the ground outside littered 
with something. She flashed her light. They 
were jugs and bottles like those in the hut on 
the mountain. Somebody had been putting 
them in — or taking them out? 

More eager than ever to find Cap’n 
Sackett, Anne hurried on around the burning 
building to the other side. It was a night full 
of mystery and fear. Not until she clasped 
the great hand of Cap’n Sackett, who was 
standing still for a moment watching the last 


252 


ROUND ROBIN 


crumbling ruin of the front wall fall into 
ashes, did Anne feel safe. 

“Why Anne, child!” cried the Cap’n look- 
ing down at her. “Where did you come from? 
Hugh said you was safe with the other girls. 
You look tired and hot. You’re tremblin’, 
honey!” He put an arm about her. “Come 
right home with me. I’ll tell the boys you’ve 
gone.” 

It was no use arguing. And indeed Anne 
had no mind to argue with the Captain. It 
seemed so restful and safe to be under his 
wing, asking no questions yet, hearing no ex- 
planations of all that puzzled her. She gave 
a sigh, and allowed him to lead her by the 
hand as he used to do when she was a little 
child, down the hill and across the field to the 
white house in the Cove. 

“Sakes alive!” cried Aunt Polly who like 
everybody else in the neighborhood, includ- 
ing Nelly, was up and dressed. “If this ain’t 
Anne!” She stared as if she saw a ghost. 

“Yes, it’s Anne,” said the Captain quietly. 
“She’s all tired out and excited. We got to 
put her to bed and let her sleep. It’s a long 


FIRE 


253 


time till mornin,’ Anne. It’ll be all right in 
the mornin’.” 

For Anne had tried to ask him one ques- 
tion. He knew she had heard the gossip. He 
saw’ she was confused with something she 
wanted to tell him. But he only smoothed her 
hair and said she must go to bed. And 
strangely enough, already Anne felt quieted 
and comforted, and ready for sleep, in this 
house which no longer seemed strange to her, 
but in the best sense, “homely.” 

Aunt Polly took her upstairs to a little 
chamber adjoining Nelly’s. Nelly was still 
out with the crowd on the hill, watching the 
last of Idlewild. It was a dear little room, 
all furnished with pretty things in perfect 
order, as if it had not been used for a long 
time. “It was Anna’s room,” said Aunt Polly, 
softly moving about to get some of Nelly’s 
things for Anne’s use, “the Captain’s daughter 
who died, you know. It’s the guest room now. 
You ought to feel at home in it, Anne. You 
have ’most the same name! Now you sleep 
sound till we wake you up.” 


CHAPTER XIS 


NEWS 

F or years Chester F. Poole had been tak- 
ing the money of other persons to line 
his own pockets. The savings of the 
simple people, his neighbors, — lumbermen, 
fishermen, farmers and the widows of poor 
sailors — had gone into his bank, because they 
trusted him. And out of this bank he had 
built his fine houses and paid for his expen- 
sive living. Now he was found out ; and being 
a coward he had run away. If the law could 
catch him he would have to go to prison. But 
the money was gone and spent; nobody could 
pay back those too-trusting men and women 
and little children whom he had ruined. And 
what was to become of them? 

This, in a few words, was what had filled 
the newspapers with gossip the day before, 
but which only Tante, Hugh and Victor had 

254 


NEWS 


255 


happened to see. But after the wild night 
at the fire it was no longer a secret to anyone. 
Round Robin was an excited camp the next 
morning, with so much to talk over. And 
because Anne was not there they could talk 
freely, about both the fire and the bank failure. 
But it was about Anne herself that they were 
most concerned. Poor Anne! Could any- 
thing be more dreadful than to be the 
daughter of such a man? Poor little Golden 
Girl, whose gold had all worn off, because it 
was only cheap gilt after all! 

^ ‘What will become of Anne, Tante?” asked 
Norma. “If Mr. Poole has lost every cent 
and must go to prison besides, what will his 
wife and children do?” 

Tante shook her head. “His wife has rela- 
tives of her own, I believe,” she said. “But, 
of course, they are not Anne’s relatives. 
Mrs. Poole is her stepmother. It is too soon 
yet to know what Anne will do. Maybe it 
will not be as bad as it seems now.” Nobody 
could guess what Tante meant, but her words 
seemed to make things a little better. 

It had taken some time to make Gilda 


256 


ROUND ROBIN 


understand what all the fuss was about. But 
when she did realize, she was filled with 
horror at this terribly unjust thing whiqh had 
happened in her beloved America. 

^‘Why, he is a Hun!” she exclaimed with 
her eyes blazing. 

“There are selfish people everywhere, 
Gilda,” said Tante sadly, “even in America. 
Their motto is not ‘get together’ but ‘get 
everything for yourself!’ ” 

“But zis is worse zan to be an orphan!” 
said Gilda tragically. “My fazzer died, one 
brave soldier. My mozzer died of ze fright- 
ful journey, when we were driven out by ze 
Huns. I am poor, and I was friendless. But 
I was never ashamed.” Her eyes were full 
of tears for Anne. 

“It is not Anne’s fault,” said Tante. “And 
when she comes back we must not seem to 
pity her. That would be hardest of all for 
her to bear. I think she will be brave, and 
that is better than being goldenr 

“Anne is a brick!” volunteered Beverly un- 
expectedly. “And I know she will be brave. 


NEWS 


257 


I don’t care what her father was. I like 
Anne!” 

do we!” chorused the Club. And then, 
without any suggestion at all from their Cap- 
tain, they broke into the Club yell, “Heia! 
Hoia! Together! Get together!” 

Nelly Sackett heard the shout as she ap- 
proached the camp, and she did not know 
what to make of it. She found them all on 
the piazza, just ready for the morning swim. 
They all rushed at her. “How is Anne?” 
they cried, and Nelly was pleased to see how 
eager and affectionate they all were. She her- 
self looked grave and her cheeks were flushed, 
but she did not seem unhappy. Far from it. 
“Anne is all right, I guess,” she said. “I have 
come to g9t a few things for her, if Tante will 
let her stay another night with us?” 

“Of course!” Tante nodded. 

“Uncle took her out for a long sail this 
morning,” Nelly explained. “He said the sea 
would do her good, and calm her down.” 

“Has he explained things to her?” asked 
Tante, looking earnestly at Nelly. 

“I think so,” said Nelly. “I think he has 


258 


ROUND ROBIN 


told her everything. But of course I haven’t 
talked to her, yet. Only Uncle seems to know 
just what to say.” 

course,” said Xante, again. 

‘‘At first she cried,” said Nelly, “when she 
came from the fire. I thought she would make 
herself ill. But since the sail she has cheered 
up. She — she smiled at me!” Nelly was too 
shy to tell that Anne had kissed her. 

She said that Anne was having a nap now, 
to make up for the lost hours of the night 
before. Nancy asked if they had found out 
who set the fire, and Nelly said that they sus- 
pected the Indian woman. Cap’n Sackett had 
caught her wandering about the place while 
the fire was going on. And some boys had 
found her canoe beached below Idlewild, but 
quite empty. Somebody had got into Mr. 
Poole’s cellar, where there was a store of 
liquor. She was held in arrest on suspicion, 
Nelly said; but that was not so uncomfortable 
as it sounded. 

“I don’t believe Sal Seguin set the fire. 
Never in the world!” cried Beverly, cham- 


NEWS 


259 


pioning her dusky friend. “Why should she 
do it?’’ 

“She hated the white men,” said Norma, 
“I remember that.” 

“She tried to tell something,” said Nelly, 
“but she gets so excited nobody can under- 
stand her gibberish. She keeps saying ^No, 
no, no I’ when anybody asks her questions. But 
she glowered and grumbled when she caught 
sight of Anne last night. That looks sus- 
picious, doesn’t it?” 

“Too suspicious,” declared Beverly. “Sal 
wouldn’t give herself away like that, if she 
had really set the fire. She is not so foolish. 
She had a grudge against Anne for something 
Anne said when she first came down here. 
But Sal wouldn’t burn Idlewild for that! I 
don’t believe any woman did it,” said Beverly, 
loyally. 

“But what was she doing there in the mid- 
dle of the night?” asked Nancy. “You know 
we saw her once prowling around at midnight, 
and several times since then the boys have 
spied her near Idlewild.” 


260 


ROUND ROBIN 


am going to find out, if I can,” said 
Beverly. “I’ll go to see her.” 

“Come back with me,” suggested Nelly. 

“All right,” said Beverly, “but I won’t 
bother Anne.” 

Beverly found Sal Seguin squatting on the 
floor of Cap’n Sackett’s barn. The Captain 
himself sat in the doorway, whittling gravely, 
apparently acting as guard of the prisoner, 
while the door remained open. “I thought 
the poor thing would be more comfortable 
here than in the lockup at the Harbor,” he 
explained. “Seems hard to shut up an Injun 
that’s had the run of the woods; even if she 
may be a fire-bug,” he looked at her doubt- 
fully. “I can’t see what she done it for,” he 
said. “She hadn’t any spite against Poole, 
like the rest of ’em. She hadn’t any money 
to get away. If she had, maybe he’d a tried 
to get that too!” He whittled angrily. “She 
might have been after the liquor, of course. 
But she hadn’t been drinkin’.” 

Sal Seguin greeted Beverly with a grunt 
that might mean pleasure or the opposite, and 
immediately began to gesticulate and to jab- 


NEWS 


261 


ber, as Nelly had said. ‘‘She is trying to tell 
me that she didn’t do it,” said Beverly. But 
Cap’n Sackett could make as good a guess as 
that. “I can’t understand half her words,” 
said Beverly, listening patiently to the queer 
mixture of syllables, part English and part of 
at least one other tongue. “But I do seem 
to gather what she means, in a way. Isn’t it 
queer? I suppose it’s because I had an Indian 
ancestor once.” But it was more likely that 
she understood because she was so eager to 
help. There is nothing that quickens under- 
standing so much as sympathy; as anyone 
knows who has had a pet animal that other 
persons call “dumb.” 

“Not set fire! No! No! No!” cried the old 
woman. 

“Anybody can understand that, whether it’s 
true or not,” said Cap’n Sackett. “But what 
else, eh? What was she doin’ up at Idlewild? 
That’s what I want to know.” 

The squaw made strange motions with her 
hands, up and down, mumbling as she did so, 
words of which Beverly finally made out the 
meaning. “Oh, I see!” she cried. “She is try- 


262 


ROUND ROBIN 


ing to say that she was cutting something — 
with a knife — oh yes, in the garden.” 

^^Ugh!” grunted the squaw, satisfied at last 
and nodding her head violently. ‘‘Garden, 
ugh!” 

“But there’s nothin’ in the garden,” said the 
Captain incredulously. “It’s all dried up, 
except Anne’s flower-bed. She can’t pretend 
she came to get vegetables. And I guess she 
didn’t want Anne’s flowers, did she?” He 
grinned at the joke. 

The old squaw listened, with sharp little 
eyes first on Beverly’s then on the old man’s 
face. “Ugh, no!” she grunted with a frown. 
“Not flowers; good-smell-things ; make sick 
folks well; medicine-plants.” She fumbled 
in her pocket and finally drew out a few stalks 
of withered herbs, which she held to Beverly’s 
nose. 

“Why, it’s sage,” said the girl, “or mar- 
joram; I can’t quite tell which.” 

“Yes, yes!” grunted the Indian eagerly. 
“Make medicine, take home to sick Indians.” 
An idea came into the Captain’s head. “Wall, 
I vum!” he exclaimed. “She was after the 




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NEWS 


265 


yarbs out of Anne’s little yarb garden. Ask 
if that’s what she’s been cornin’ for right 
along?” The old woman seemed to under- 
stand him, and began nodding assent. “Come 
two-three-four times, up there. Bad man’s 
house; nobody home. Medicine plants grow 
all alone. No white man want ’em. Me pick 
for sick Indian. Not thief, me!” She drew 
herself up proudly. 

“That’s what I said,” Beverly nodded at 
her, smiling. “I was sure you were n’t doing 
anything really wrong.” But the Captain 
still seemed unsatisfied. 

“All very well,” he said, “if that’s all. But 
she must have been there just at the time the 
fire started. Didn’t she see anybody? Can’t 
she tell anything? What about the cellar?” 

“Me see! Me tell!” grunted Sal. “Not set 
fire. No! No! No!” 

“No,” Beverly soothed her. “I understand. 
But what did you see, Sal? Tell me. Was 
somebody setting a fire?” 

“Ugh!” grunted Sal. “Two men.” And 
she made the sign of measuring someone tall 
and someone short. ‘‘Big man, so! Little 


266 


ROUND ROBIN 


man, so! Bad men burn up bad man’s house. 
Bring out jugs,” she made the sign of drink- 
ing. ^‘Run away when see me.” 

This was all Beverly could get out of her. 
But it was enough to set them thinking. “I 
wish I had understood this before!” cried the 
Captain jumping to his feet. ^We must look 
into this! I wonder where the men went to?” 

It needed Anne or Dick to give the final 
clue. And even while they talked Anne ap- 
peared in the doorway of the barn, a little 
pale, but quite herself. It was the frowning 
look on the old squaw’s face that caused the 
others to turn and see Anne there. 

Beverly jumped to her feet and ran for- 
ward. ^‘Oh Anne!” she cried. She had 
promised Tante not to bother Anne. But 
when she spied her tent-mate standing there, 
she couldn’t help giving her a big affectionate 
hug. Tears came into Anne’s eyes. So one 
of her friends at least did not despise her for 
being the daughter of a thief! She put her 
arm through Beverly’s and stood facing the 
Captain. ^‘I think I know who did it!” she 


NEWS 


267 


cried. wasn’t she, it was the two moon- 
shiners.” 

“Moonshiners!” The Captain stared. 
“What do you mean, Anne? What do you 
know about moonshiners?” 

“I haven’t had time to tell you yet,” said 
Anne. “They have a camp on the mountain, 
and a cave on the shore, not far away. Ask 
Dick. We saw them. T. Leveen’ is one, and 
F — Mr. Poole writes to him. They must have 
had the key of the cellar; for they had been 
taking back their jugs and things.” 

“Ugh,” grunted Sal Seguin. “Sol” 

“I think they burned up Idlewild to punish 
me for telling,” Anne went on. “They will 
probably do worse now. But I am not afraid 
any more,” she smiled at the Captain, “now 
you know all about it!” 

Here Aunt Polly appeared and led Anne 
back to her room. “You got to rest,” she 
warned, with a nod to the Captain. 

“Ask Dick. He can tell you all about it,” 
said Anne over her shoulder as she was led 
away. 

“Well!” said the Captain. “It’s a queer 


268 


ROUND ROBIN 


Story, if it’s true. Maybe Anne ain’t quite 
herself and imagines it all. I must find Dick. 
Then, if it’s so, I must get two or three men 
and we will go after those moonshiners. P. 
Leveen; I don’t know that name.” 


CHAPTER XX 


LAW AND LIBERTY 

T he first thing Captain Sackett did was 
to look up Dick Reed, who corroborated 
Anne’s story, and added some impor- 
tant details which she had forgotten. ^‘You 
come along with me,” said the Captain, “and 
we’ll catch those moonshiners redhanded, I 
guess.” The Captain also took Hugh and 
Victor, saying it would do no harm to have 
two young soldiers along, in case of accident. 
Besides the boys, he picked up two of his 
neighbors, big Bill Chatto the butcher and 
Lonny Maguire. 

Dick was a proud boy that day, to be guide 
of such a party of veterans, about to show 
them something which he had discovered by 
himself; though he did not fail to give Anne 
credit for the original suggestion. 

Captain Sackett’s motor boat already trailed 

269 


270 


ROUND ROBIN 


a dory to be used for landing. But at Dick’s 
suggestion they carried also his canoe, he ex- 
plaining that with it they could make a swift 
and silent entrance to that mysterious cove 
where the moonshiners carried on their law- 
less business. When the party had almost 
reached the cove they anchored the motor 
boat, and divided their forces. Dick took 
Captain Sackett and Hugh into the canoe, the 
others following more leisurely in the dory. 
Swiftly and quietly Dick traced the way be- 
tween the reefs that concealed the entrance, 
enjoying the Captain’s amazement that this 
hiding-place had escaped his notice all these 
years. He had passed the shore a thousand 
times on his fishing trips. But only when you 
approached it in the right way, close up under 
the rocks, could you spy the cove, open and 
deep, penetrating the side of the mountain as 
if a giant had split it with his sword. 

‘ The beach was deserted. It was high tide, 
and the entrance to the cave was lapped by 
the waves. Some barrels and broken boxes 
were piled up just above the tide line, perhaps 
waiting to be shipped. Presently Hugh’s 


LAW AND LIBERTY 


271 


sharp eyes spied a boat moored in the shadow 
of some spruces close to the shore where the 
water was deep. 

‘‘The men are up in the hut, I guess!’’ 
whispered Dick. “WeVe got ’em!” It was 
a thrilling moment for him. The others 
seemed excited too, especially Bill Chatto, 
who turned purple in the face. Very quietly 
they all landed and drew up the boats on the 
sand. They made sure that the cave was 
empty, then in single file they entered the path 
which Dick showed them, creeping like cats 
so as not to make the least noise. Captain 
Sackett led the way, carrying his rifle ready. 
Hugh and Victor followed with their re- 
volvers. The others armed with axes and 
carrying ropes brought up the rear. 

Presently they came in sight of the hut. But 
before they spied the curl of smoke coming 
from the chimney they knew they were not 
alone in these woods. The hut was occupied. 
The sound of rough men’s voices quarreling 
came to them down the path. They lay low 
in the bushes, listening, while the shouts rose 
higher and higher. Evidently the men were 


272 


ROUND ROBIN 


quite off their guard, so secure were they in 
this lonely spot. The visitors could see the 
open door of the hut, and presently out of 
this door a man came staggering, with a small 
keg in his hands. He had evidently been 
drinking. He was coming down the path 
straight towards where the officer of the law 
and his party were concealed. 

‘T know him! Wait till he gets close,” the 
Captain whispered to the others. “When I 
give the signal you two lads and I will trip 
this one up and make a rush on the hut; then 
you fellers with the ropes can tackle him.” 

And that was what happened. the 

Captain whispered, when the tall stranger 
was only a few feet away. The dazed man 
was so surprised at the sudden onrush that he 
staggered and stumbled straight into the arms 
of the waiting fishermen, whose task was thus 
made easy. The Captain and the two war- 
veterans kept on to the hut and burst in at the 
open door. Everything inside was in great con- 
fusion. Bottles, kegs and jugs were overturned 
and dripping. Broken glass littered the floor. 
A second man was sitting at the table drinking 


LAW AND LIBERTY 


273 


out of a bottle and banging the boards with 
his fist, when the party rushed upon him. Be- 
fore he had a chance to seize a rifle from the 
wall they had his arms bound. And presently 
the two men were sitting handcuffed and help- 
less but roaring at one another outside their 
hut, guarded by the fishermen, while Captain 
Sackett, Dick and the two ex-soldiers searched 
the cabin. 

They found it to be, as they had expected 
from Dick’s description, a moonshiners’ den, 
full of contraband liquor. Here were all the 
tools of that forbidden business. Evidently 
for years the pair had been distilling the 
dangerous stuff which the law has declared 
unlawful to make or sell or distribute. These 
men were now not only killing themselves by 
slow degrees, but they were breaking the law 
and making money by selling danger to others. 
Captain Sackett gazed around in surprise and 
horror. To think this still should have been 
operating under his very nose all this time, 
only discovered by accident through Anne’s 
being lost on the mountain! She had been in 


274 


ROUND ROBIN 


danger, too, that made him shudder. For 
these were desperate men. 

Piled in one corner were some sticks of 
dynamite. And with these were some of the 
jugs still labeled with the name of C. F. Poole. 
Evidently the moonshiners had been doing a 
regular business with the rich man, supplying 
his cellars with the liquor. And when they 
burned his place they could not bear to see 
the stuff which he had left behind wasted; 
so they had lugged some of it back here 
through the woods, to enjoy by themselves,' 
while the house was crumbling. 

The Captain strode out of the house and 
faced the two bewildered and cowering fel- 
lows. “What d’ye burn down his house for?” 
he asked with a menacing frown. “We know 
you done it. Now what for?” 

Leveen, the smaller of the two men, began 
to jabber in broken English, pointing at his 
comrade with accusing finger. “He done it. 
He! He! Not me!” Leveen seemed to be a 
foreigner of the lowest type^ lawless and un- 
educated. Though he had come to America, 
it was not to be an American. He was what 


LAW AND LIBERTY 


275 


Tante would have called poor material for 
the Patchwork Quilt; he never should have 
been allowed to baste himself upon it. He 
was that impossible kind of “square” that does 
not fit into any orderly society, because of its 
worn-off corners. He refused to acknowledge 
any right or wrong but “liberty” to do as he 
pleased. 

The other man was different. He called 
himself Smith — an innocent name enough. 
“You Smith!” growled the Captain. “What 
you do it for? You know better! You was 
born an American; you’ve had an eddication 
and a chance. What you burn down a man’s 
house for?” 

Smith was too intoxicated to be cautious. 
“What did Poole cheat me fur?” he growled. 
“He done us both; we both paid him off! 
Leveen, he’s lying. It was he — he lifted the 
petrol. Poole wanted to git rich quick. So 
did we. He got us to make liquor for him — 
ain’t it a free country? — and fixed it easy so^s 
we shouldn’t be found out. He helped our 
business and got the advantage of it in two 
ways. He took our money and invested it in 


276 


ROUND ROBIN 


his bank. Invested! He stole it, the mean 
scalawag! That’s why we burned his house. 
But what I want to know is, how did you find 
this place? He eyed the. group angrily and 
his eyes rested on the three khaki-clad fellows 
from Round Robin, with a dawning idea in 
his muddled brain. 

^‘Your still was found by accident,” said the 
Captain cautiously. “But you were seen 
prowlin’ about Idlewild at the fire. You 
can’t get around that.” 

“Injun woman!” hissed Leveen fiercely. 
“She saw. I told you!” 

“Shut up!” cried Smith, turning on him. 
“You’re givin’ us away!” He did not seem 
to know that he himself had already done so. 
“I know who told on me,” he went on fiercely. 
“It was that gal! You fellers are from that 
imitation camp, too. She told on me, though 
I warned her. She is Poole’s darter — ^I might 
a’knowed she’d queer my game. She’s a chip 
of the old block, she is. But she’ll have to 
pay yet!” And he uttered wild threats about 
Anne. 

The Captain grew rigid. i“Stop!” he cried 


LAW AND LIBERTY 


277 


Sternly. ^‘That little gal is no more Poole’s 
darter than I be. She is my grand-darter, 
and be careful how you talk now. Every word 
you say will be used against you.” 

It is hard to say who stared most at these 
words; the prisoners, or the three from Round 
Robin, or the fishermen. But they effectually 
closed the foul mouths of Smith and his 
partner. Not another word did they speak 
till they were landed in the lock-up of Old 
Harbor; a place seldom occupied in this God- 
fearing, law-abiding community, where it was 
the fashion to respect the comfort of one’s 
neighbors as well as of one’s self, in the true 
American way. 

The boys returned to Round Robin with an 
exciting story and a tremendous bit of news. 
Indeed, Round Robin found the news more 
exciting even than the story of the capture — 
moonshiners and firebugs and all. 

^^Did you know who Anne was all the time, 
Tante?” asked Dick; and they all looked at 
her eagerly. 

“Not at first,” said Tante. “Mr. Poole 
wrote me early in the summer. I suspected 


ROUND ROBIN 


^78 

he was in trouble when he said I should have 
to tell Anne something unpleasant before 
long. Then the Captain told me. It was 
better that her own grandfather should tell 
Anne about it all; that fine old man!” 

“Then Anne never was a Golden Girl, after 
all,” said Eddie, who had overheard and half 
understood what was being said. “Nor even 
gilded,” added Freddie. 

“Hush! she may be gold inside,” said 
Nancy, thinking of an ending for her fairy 
story. 

“I wish I had known this before I wrote 
Mother,” Beverly mused as she walked away. 
“I’ll have to add a codicil.” 

“I’ve already telegraphed Father,” Norma 
whispered to Gilda in their tent. Girls do 
like to tell newsl 


CHAPTER XXI 
COUSINS 

y 

T he story which the Captain had told 
Anne, when they went for that memo-' 
rable sail together, was this. 

Fifteen years earlier his beloved daughter 
Anna had married a man from “the Main,” 
as the people of that part of the country called 
the mainland. To her parents’ grief he had 
taken her to live fifty miles away. How they 
had missed her! A year later she came home 
for a visit, bringing her little baby, called 
Anne — “and that was you,** the Captain said, 
“the cutest little baby I ever saw!” 

Just before it was time for Anna to go back 
home, her husband came for her and they 
went on an automobile trip with some friends. 
The party had a terrible accident, and the 
young couple were killed. Their little baby 

. 279 


280 


ROUND ROBIN 


remained for a few months with its grand- 
parents, who grew to love it dearly. But the 
very next spring Captain Sackett’s own wife 
died. With all these griefs the Captain was 
nearly distracted. He was quite unfit to care 
for the little baby alone, and there was no one 
to help him. His one hope of recovering a 
quiet mind lay in a long ocean voyage. But 
what was to become of the little orphan? 

Just before this time Mr. Poole came to the 
Harbor, and began buying land and cutting 
a wide swath. He seemed kind and generous 
— that was because he wanted to win the con- 
fidence of the people in that place. Many 
persons gave him their money to keep. The 
Captain did not do that; but he did more. 
He give him little Anne. The rich man’s 
wife had taken a fancy to the helpless little 
one, and as she had no children of her own 
wanted to adopt Anne. Mr. Poole was will- 
ing, and it seemed a lucky chance for the baby 
to be brought up in comfort and happiness. 
No one was ever to know Anne’s history. The 
only condition the Captain made was that the 
little girl should always be allowed to come 


COUSINS 


281 


to see him when she was at the Harbor, and 
that she should call him ^^Uncle.” 

thought I was doin’ ye a good turn, 
Anne,” the Captain added wistfully. 
thought he was a good man, and you were lucky. 
But I made a big mistake. He was always 
selfish. And after his first wife died he grew 
more so. You’d a’ been better off with me, 

I guess, even if I’d a’ taken ye with me to 
sea.” 

The Captain told Anne how Mr. Poole had 
written him early in the summer that a crash 
was coming shortly, and that Anne must be 
told the whole truth sooner or later. Poole 
could no longer take care of her, for he was 
penniless and worse. Anyway, his wife would 
have all she could do to care for their own 
baby, born this very year of disaster. This 
boy of course made all the difference. There 
was no longer any place for Anne who, it now 
seemed, had never been properly adopted. ; 
He wanted to give her up. He had arranged 
for her summer at Mrs. Batchelder’s camp. 
After that he shifted the responsibility back 
to the Captain. The old man paused here. . 


282 


ROUND ROBIN 


All this had been about the past. Nothing 
was said about the future. 

At first Anne was only dazed by this top- 
pling of her whole family and home. But 
gradually one thought came uppermost. She 
asked only one question, “I am glad I am 
not the daughter of a thief!” she said tremu- 
lously. “Oh, I am glad! But if Mr. Poole 
isn’t — ^who was my truly father?” 

The Captain brightened. “He was all 
right,” he answered. “At first I didn’t like 
Anna to marry him, because he was a 
foreigner. But he was an honest man, a sailor 
named Carlsen, a Norwegian.” 

“A Norwegian!” Anne stared. The Cap- 
tain went on. 

“You ought to love the sea, Anne. Your 
father came from ’way up in the Northern 
ocean, a regular sailor, like me. He was 
thrifty and doing well. He had laid by a lit- 
tle. But of course Poole got that. Lucky he 
didn’t get my savings, by gum! I’m not rich, 
but I’ve got enough, Anne — ” he broke off 
abruptly. He seemed to want to say more, 
but perhaps he did not dare. 


COUSINS 


28S 


Anne Carlsen ; that was her new name ! She 
rather liked the sound of it. She had never 
cared for the jerky syllables “Anne Poole.” 
Her father had been a foreigner it seemed; 
and she had despised and laughed at those 
other foreigners! And she had not a penny 
in the world; no home; nobody who seemed 
to want her. But at any rate she was the 
daughter of honest people and her grand- 
father was the best man who ever lived! 
There was nothing for her to be ashamed of 
but the foolish ideas she had had in the past. 

This was what Anne was thinking this 
morning as she moved about the pretty 
little room in Cap’n Sacketfs house, next to 
Nelly’s, where she had spent two days and 
nights as a guest. She was setting the room 
to rights and packing her little bag to go back 
to Camp. The Captain had said that was what 
she was to do at present; there were still two 
weeks before the Camp would break up, when 
Round Robin would go back to the city and 
school. Anne was still in Tante’s care, and 
Tante was expecting her, he said. 

Anne finished her little chores — they 


284 


ROUND ROBIN 


seemed very easy nowadays — and stood looking 
out of the window through the branches of 
the old apple tree at the bay. It was a sweet 
little view. Anne thought she had never seen 
a prettier one anywhere; the green grass 
above the quiet beach, the sparkling sea be- 
yond the evergreen trees making a border. 
This was the view which her little mother had 
loved, too. In that very room she had sung 
Anne to sleep, a tiny baby. And that blue vast- 
ness was the ocean which all her Yankee an- 
cestors had loved; so too had her Norse father, 
of a race of famous sailor-men. Anne remem- 
bered it was the Norse sailors who had really 
first discovered America. 

Little white waves were breaking up on the 
beach where Cap’n Sackett was just land- 
ing from his boat with a basket of fish. He 
had been out since four o’clock that morning. 
How hard he worked; and how everybody 
respected him! It was fine to be honored by 
your neighbors. 

Someone tapped on the door and Nelly en- 
tered. “Hello,” she said. “Can I help? Oh, 
you’re all ready. Anne! I’m sorry you are 


COUSINS 


285 


going away! I wish you were going to stay — 
always!” Nelly stammered at the last word. 

‘‘It’s funny, but it seems like home,” said 
Anne simply. She felt suddenly lonely at the 
thought of going away from this nest into 
which she had fluttered almost by accident; 
before she knew it had been builded by her 
own flock of sea-birds, and that she herself 
had once been sung asleep in its safety. “How 
long have you known, Nelly?” 

Anne had no need to explain what she 
meant. Nelly knew she was thinking of her 
name and history. 

“I think I have always guessed it,” said 
Nelly, “ever since I first saw you on the pier, 
the day you landed. I felt as if we were some- 
thing together. I can’t explain what I mean. 
No, you didn’t feel so, I know; it didn’t seem 
possible, then. No person told me till Uncle 
Eph did the other day. I just intued it!” She 
looked shyly at Anne. 

“You must have hated me,” said Anne, re- 
membering the disagreeable airs she had put 
on and the way she had snubbed Nelly 
Sackett. 


286 


ROUND ROBIN 


Nelly considered her cousin gravely. ^^No,” 
she said, “I didn’t hate you. I thought 
maybe that was the way I’d feel if I were 
in your place. Money often does turn peo- 
ple’s heads, doesn’t it? We aren’t a bit alike, 
really. But I guess there is something alike 
inside us. There must be inside everybody.” 

Anne had been thinking of something else 
that troubled her. “What do you suppose 
will become of me?” she faltered. “I never 
thought about planning things till now. No- 
body wants me, Nelly. Mr. Poole just gives 
me up — though I can’t be sorry for that! If 
anybody wants to adopt me, all right, he says. 
But why should anybody want to? I’m no 
good. I’m just expensive.” 

Nelly began to laugh, recalling how well 
Anne had fitted into their simple domestic life 
during the past two days; how many kinds of 
things she had learned to do in this queer 
summer; and how everybody was growing to 
like her. “Golden Girls sound expensive,” 
she said, “but maybe they are not so bad, when 
you know them.” Anne did not laugh at 
the old joke. 


COUSINS 


287 


‘‘Suppose nobody wants me?” she said. 
“What happens to people like that? Do they 
go to the poorhouse? If I could be earning 
my own living it would be different. But hov/ 
can I, now? I don’t know enough.” 

Nelly shook her head. “Not yet,” she said. 
“We are not old enough.” She had been 
thinking about these things too. “But don’t 
forget that Uncle Eph is your grandfather. 
You’ve got somebody behind you, anyway. 
That’s more than a good many children have.” 

“He didn’t say he could help,” murmured 
Anne. “He didn’t offer.” 

“He was afraid of you,” said Nelly eagerly. 
“I know how it is. He thought he would 
seem too plain for you. He thought it was 
too sudden to come down from the idea of 
Idlewild to this house! But he wants you, 
I know, if you’d be happy. He said so. He 
thinks maybe you can do better. But he 
would take care of you, just as he takes care 
of me. We’d divide everything. We’d be 
like sisters, Anne. I’d let you share my 
mother!” 

Anne turned from the window and looked 


288 


ROUND ROBIN 


at Nelly with new eyes. What a wonderful 
thing it would be to have a sister! Since liv- 
ing at camp she had begun to realize how 
nice it was to be close to other girls and do 
things together with them. She and Nelly 
really were cousins, that was certain. And 
how different Nelly seemed to her now that 
she knew her better. How unselfish she was! 

“We’ll be like sisters anyway,” she said im- 
pulsively, “but the Captain — Grandfather — 
couldn’t support another big girl like me?” 

“He isn’t poor,” said Nelly. “We can both 
learn to do something. Then some day we can 
both pay him back. What will you be, 
Anne?” 

Anne had never really thought of being 
anything until this moment. “Be? Why — 
I’d like to be a teacher,” she said suddenly. 
The idea popped into her head like an in- 
spiration. “I'd like to teach foreigners how 
to become good ‘squares’ in the Patchwork 
Quilt, as Tante calls it. Oh yes! And I’d 
like to learn how to take care of little children 
like the children around here. I’d like to be 
able to nurse them or doctor them when they 


COUSINS 


289 


can’t get a doctor in a hurry. I wish I could 
make up to this place for the things I had 
when I was little, when I didn’t know who 
was paying for them. I didn’t know it, but 
I was a PigT 

Nelly listened eagerly. “I think it’s a lovely 
idea,” she said, hugging Anne around the 
neck. ^‘You can’t be everything; but you are 
awfully clever — much smarter than I. I want 
to be a teacher, too. But you can do a lot 
beside. Some day you will be my boss, I 
know; and you will like it, too.” Nelly under- 
stood her cousin pretty well already. 

“Hello, Anne!” called the Captain from 
the foot of the stairs. “Ain’t ye most ready 
to go? They’re expectin’ ye, I guess.” 
Anne turned red. He seemed anxious to be 
rid of her, she thought. But when she saw 
his kind face she knew better. “I’m going to 
tell Uncle Eph what you said you wanted to 
be,” Nelly whispered, and she burst out with 
the whole story before Anne could stop her. 
The Captain listened gravely, with his eyes 
resting affectionately on Anne, but all he said 
was — “That’s good!” 


290 


ROUND ROBIN 


‘Thank you for being so kind to me, and 
for telling me all about myself so nicely,’^ said 
Anne a little stiffly. “I have had a very nice 
time here, and — I’m glad you are my Grand- 
father!” The Captain beamed. 

“I’m glad ye’re not ashamed,” he said. 
“Now ye’ll run over to see us often, won’t 
ye? It ain’t long before Mrs. Batchelder 
breaks up camp, ye know, and then — ” he 
waited, “we dunno what/* 

“Of course I’ll come,” said Anne. “This 
seems like home, now.” 

“Does it?” the Captain’s face brightened. 
“Wal, I wish it was, truly. Of course it can 
be, Anne, if ye want it. It’s plain. But the 
door’s open. No, don’t say anything now. 
Maybe ye’ll have a better chance. But any- 
how, here is my little Anna’s place ready for 
ye. I’ll send ye to school. I can help ye 
do whatever ye want to, I guess. Life won’t 
be so easy for ye, as it used to be. But it 
needn’t be empty. I don’t want to press ye, 
I give ye up once, and I guess that cost me 
the right to ye now. I thought I was doin’ 
the best thing for ye then. But I made a 


COUSINS 


291 


mistake. Now maybe ye’ll know what’s best 
for yourself, if you have a chance. Anyway 
— no hurry! 

‘^Oh Grandfather!” Anne ran up and 
hugged the old man around the neck, till the 
tears came into his eyes. “How good you are! 
I’d choose this home anywayT 

But the Captain gently shook his head. 
“There, there!” he said, “Don’t ye go too 
fast, little gal. I don’t want to take advantage 
of ye. Wait till ye get your bearin’s. It’s 
all so sudden for ye. I wanted ye to see this 
house and the way we live, so’s you’d know 
what ye was doin’ ef ye chose us. But take 
time. Finish out yer summer at the Camp, 
and see what happens. Then we can talk it 
over again. Run along now. They’ll be ex- 
pectin’ ye.” 

Aunt Polly added no word to the Captain’s 
invitation, but kissed Anne affectionately and 
said good-bye. 

“Oh, I am so glad somebody wants me!” 
thought Anne, as she and Nelly walked slowly 
along the road together, talking of many 
things. 


CHAPTER XXII 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 

T he summer was drawing to a close. 
There were only two weeks more of 
Camp, and Round Robin was resolved 
to make the most of this fortnight, before the 
little group should scatter to the four quarters 
of the land. For as Dick said it was like 
^^boxing the compass’’ when they compared 
their winter plans. Dick was putting in long 
hours finishing up his studies with Hugh, be- 
fore starting back to his home in the far West. 
Beverly, like the summer birds which were 
already showing restless flutterings in the tree- 
tops, would soon be flitting South. Victor was 
going to try his fortunes in New York, where 
Norma lived. Gilda and the Batchelders 
were due in Boston, where the public schools 
open early. And Cicely must sail back to 
England before the autumn storms were due. 

292 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


29S 


Nelly Sackett was still in High School at Old 
Harbor; she alone would remain, it seemed. 
Then there was Anne. What about Anne? 

Round Robin was agreed that they must all 
treat Anne exactly as if nothing had happened. 
Anne was still Anne, and they had voted her 
a full and satisfactory member. The thing 
was to have as good a time and to make her 
have as good a time as possible in the short 
weeks left of the precious summer. There 
weren’t likely to be any more such exciting 
happenings as had kept them all on tenter- 
hooks during these last days. But there were 
picnics and excursions planned; the hours 
were not long enough for all the delightful 
things they had put off till the end of summer, 
while the days were already growing shorter. 

The morning Anne was expected back to 
camp Tante sent the Twins off to pick blue- 
berries. Cicely and Nancy had already started 
with baskets for a ^^mushroam,” as they called 
a tramp to find the delicious tawny chanter- 
elles that hid in the shadows under the spruce 
trees. Dick was studying in his tent; some 
of the others had gone for the mail. 


294 


ROUND ROBIN 


Beverly announced that she was going to 
see Sal Seguin. The old Indian woman was 
free again, but Captain Sackett had let her 
live in his barn for a day or two, while she 
was being questioned about what she had 
seen that night when Idlewild was burned. 
Beverly wanted to give her a little present 
before she went home, for she and the old 
woman had become very good friends. Xante 
was left alone at Round Robin to welcome 
Anne; which was exactly what she had 
planned. She did not know that at this very 
moment Norma was racing breathless along 
the road, hoping to intercept Anne at the end 
of Cap’n Sackett’s lane. 

‘^Heia! HoiaT’ sang Norma in her musical 
soprano as she spied the two girls coming to- 
wards her, and in her dramatic Italian way 
she flourished a paper high in the air. Anne 
and Nelly, who were talking earnestly together, 
stopped their conversation and came up to her 
with a question. It did not seem as if there 
could be any event left to cause such excite- 
ment. 

‘^Good news!” called Norma, her big eyes 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 295 

shining. And running forward she seized 
Anne in her arms and kissed her warmly. 

have had an answer to my telegram. I 
thought it would come this morning.” The 
girls still stared. They did not know about 
any telegram. But Norma explained that it 
was from her father in New York. “Let me 
read it,” she said unfolding the paper. “I 
ran all the way from the Post Office because 
I couldn’t wait, Anne.” 

The telegram was, after its kind, brief and 
emphatic. “ Wire needs of your girl friend. 
How much? Tell her bank on me. G. Son- 
nino.’ — ^There!” said Norma triumphantly. 
“That’s just like Father! Now it’s all right.” 

But Anne looked puzzled. “What do you 
mean?” she said. “I don’t understand.” 

“It means that as soon as Father heard 
about — about your trouble, Anne, he just 
wanted to help. You can count on him for 
money enough to do whatever you please — 
for a while, anyway. Father will do anything 
for me, Anne. I am so glad!” 

“Oh Norma!” exclaimed Nelly, glancing 
sidewise at Anne. She was afraid the impul- 


296 


ROUND ROBIN 


sive girl would hurt her cousin’s feelings. 
Anne flushed a little and hesitated. 

“It is awfully good of you Norma, and your 
Father is kind as can be,” she said. “But — 
but I hope I shall not have to borrow any 
money from — from outside my family. I 
have a family, you know, Norma! Nelly is 
my cousin and Cap’n Sackett is my grand- 
father. I don’t think he would want me to 
take money from anyone else. Would he 
Nelly?” 

Nelly shook her head. “I don’t think so,” 
she said emphatically. Norma’s face fell. 

“I am so disappointed,” she said. But she 
was wise enough not to press the point. “Well, 
I suppose I may as well wire Father now,” 
she said, turning reluctantly back towards the 
village. “He will be sorry. He loves to 
help.” 

Here and there along the road a maple leaf 
turning red showed that the short summer was 
nearing its end. Blackberries were ripening 
above the stone walls. The birds were flit- 
ting in little groups through the treetops, 
keeping together, ready for their coming long 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


297 


flight. The golden rod stood suddenly ablaze, 
and the asters were putting on their royal 
purple. 

^‘What a lovely road it is!” said Anne. 
never used to notice such things, but I have 
got new eyes this summer.” 

They were about half way to Round Robin 
before they met Beverly. “Oh Anne!” she 
cried running up as soon as she saw the two 
cousins. “I am so glad to see you again. I 
have missed you awfully. I’m on my way 
to see old Sal. But I’ll be back before 
luncheon. Let’s go for a swim as soon as I 
get back, shall we?” 

“All right,” agreed Anne, glad to be off- 
handed. 

Beverly turned on her heel as she was just 
disappearing down the path, “I say, Anne,” 
she drawled, “don’t you make any engage- 
ments for October! I’ve written Mother al- 
ready that you are to come and visit us in 
Virginia for at least a month. We’ll have 
the best time! Everybody will want you; but 
don’t forget I’ve asked you first.” Anne 


298 


ROUND ROBIN 


beamed upon her with pleasure. Beverly was 
such a dear! 

“I’d love to come, if I can,” she said. “But 
I’ll have to ask Grandfather, of course. And 
I don’t know about school yet.” 

“We’ll fix it somehow,” Beverly nodded. 
“Mother will be crazy to see you. And you’ll 
love Liveoaks, our old place. Well, so-long! 
I’ll have to hurry if we are to get that swim.” 
And Beverly moved .on, as fast as Beverly 
could. 

“How dear they are!” thought Anne. “I 
never would have believed it, six weeks ago!” 

Meanwhile, with Patsy in her lap, Xante 
sat on the piazza of the bungalow watching 
for Anne. As she darned the stockings of the 
Twins she glanced up every now and then 
anxiously. Anne was late. All these meet- 
ings and talks had delayed her and Nelly. 
When at last Xante saw the two girls coming 
along the path she laid down her mending 
and went to greet them with a sweet smile. 
“I am glad to see you back, Anne my dear!” 
she said, cordially. And Patsy arching his 
back seemed to agree with her, in an amiable 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


29P 


purr. “These two days have seemed long 
to us.” 

Nelly lingered at the foot of the steps. She 
hated to give up this new-found cousin of 
hers. “I guess I will go back now,” she said, 
reluctantly. “Will you come over to-morrow, 
Anne?” 

“Of course I will,” said Anne heartily. 
“Don’t feed the rabbit till I come. I want 
him to be glad to see me.” 

“You don’t need to worry. We shall all 
be glad enough,” grinned Nelly. Anne waved 
her out of sight. Then she sat down on the 
piazza steps at Tante’s feet. It seemed as if she 
had been gone a week. But Tante acted ex- 
actly as if nothing had happened. Tante al- 
ways treated everybody the same at one time 
as at another; which was one reason why 
everybody loved her so much. She told Anne 
some of the things the Club had planned for 
the next two weeks. Then she said quite 
casually that of course the Camp would be 
closed in September, and not opened till an- 
other summer. 

“Another summer!” said Anne. “I suppose 


300 


ROUND ROBIN 


I shan’t see any of you till then. Won’t it 
be odd?” Tante asked her if she had any plan 
for the winter, and Anne hesitated. ^^Not any 
regular plan,” she asked. “You know every- 
thing about me, don’t you, Tante?” Tante 
said yes, she did. 

“I have a foreign name now!” said Anne. 
“Isn’t it queer? I can’t quite get used to being 
Anne Carlsen/' she spoke it strangely. Tante 
asked her if she liked her new name, and 
Anne confessed that it sounded better to her 
than the old one. Then Tante said a strange 
thing: 

“Because, if you don’t like it we can change 
it. How would you like the name of Batch- 
elder, for instance? How would you like to 
call Nancy your sister, and Hugh and the 
Twins your brothers, Anne?” 

“Tante!” Anne gasped. What was she be- 
ing offered? Nothing less than a new home 
and family. She had seen enough of that 
family to guess what a beautiful home they 
must have. Seeing Anne speechless, Tante 
went on to tell her how she had consulted her 
children and how they were pleased with the 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 301 


idea. They were not rich, she said. They 
lived in a simple city house, not in the least 
like the former luxurious home of Mr. Poole. 
They had no servants, and they all shared the 
work together, just as at Round Robin. Tante 
was a teacher, and so was Hugh. They would 
all have to earn their living some day. But, 
Tante said, all American children ought to 
be able to do that, whatever the future held 
in store for them. Anne should go to school 
with Nancy and learn the things she wished. 
Then in summer there would again be Camp, 
which was Tante’s “business.” 

“You will be treated just the same as one 
of my own children, Anne,” said Tante. And 
Anne knew that Tante never said what she 
did not mean. 

“Oh Tante! And you have such a big 
family already!” 

“We have a big house,” smiled Tante. “We 
love to keep it filled.” Anne seemed to feel 
the warmth of happiness that must brim the 
rooms in Tante’s big house, radiating from 
Tante’s own big heart. Then suddenly she 
had a vision of the Captain’s happy look when 


302 


ROUND ROBIN 


she had first called him ^^Grandfather/’ and 
of Nelly’s wistful good-bye. And she had a 
curious counter-pulling of her heart towards 
those people who really belonged to her. 

^^Does Grandfather know?” she said falter- 
ingly. Tante nodded. 

“Certainly, I consulted him first,” she said. 
“He is willing you should choose for your- 
self, between his home and mine. Of course, 
you would still see him in the summer; but 
I should want to adopt you legally and have 
you take our name.” 

Anne Carlsen stood looking at the ground, 
thinking harder than she had ever thought in 
her life before. What Tante had said made 
her very happy. To think that these lovely 
people wanted her in their family! And 
wanted to share with her their good old 
Yankee name! She was not yet quite familiar 
with her own proper Norwegian name; why 
should she mind giving it up so soon? And 
yet — strangely enough — Anne did not want to 
give it up! 

“My real name is Carlsen,” she was 
saying to herself. “I never thought about 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 


303 


what a real name meant, before. This one 
sounds foreign, but it is mine; given me by 
my good sailor father whom I never knew. I 
lost it once without knowing; now I have got 
it back again. And I’d like to keep it and 
make it real American. It is only a sound; 
that is all the Batchelder name is, too. But 
it’s mine. And I can only be myself, not a 
Batchelder.” She looked up at Tante with a 
wrinkle in her forehead, because she had been 
thinking so hard. 

^‘You don’t have to tell me right away, 
Anne,” said Tante kindly. “Think it over. 
Dear.” But Anne shook her head. 

“Oh, Tante, you dear Tante!” she replied 
in a low voice. “I love you all for inviting 
me. But if Grandfather wants me — and I 
think he does, Nelly says so — I want to be 
his girl. I want to make good with my own 
name, too. I think Grandfather would like 
that; because of my mother.” 

Tante kissed her affectionately. “You are 
a dear little girl!” she said. “And you have 
thought things out pretty clearly, I see, in this 


304 


ROUND ROBIN 


short time. But you mustn’t be in a hurry. 
Take time before you decide, Anne.” 

^‘That is what Grandfather said. But I 
have decided already,” said Anne firmly. “I 
know I am doing right. If Grandfather 
wants me, I am going to stay with him and 
Nelly. I shall do as he says, about school and 
everything.” And she told Tante what she 
hoped to be,’ when she should grow old enough 
to help in the world. 

“I think you have chosen right,” said Tantc. 
“But the children will be disappointed. Your 
Grandfather and I shall have to do some plan- 
ning together.” 

“Oh Tante! It is so nice to be wanted T 
said Anne fervently. 

Then the Twins came racing up. “Hooray, 
Anne!” cried Freddie. “Come and play In- 
dian with us, will you?” 

“Come and see how we’ve finished the house 
you began for us, Anne,” said Eddie pulling 
her by the hand. “It is so nice to have you 
back!” 

“I’m coming,” said Anne. “And here’s 
Doughboy, too! But you just ought to see 


A CHIP OF THE OLD BLOCK 305 


my rabbits, Twins. Will you go over with 
me to Grandfather’s house to-morrow and see 
Plon and the others? That will be fun!” 

Tante watched them racing down the path 
towards the sea; then went out to meet Nancy 
who was just returning from a visit to the 
Maguire children. 

“Anne has decided to remain Anne Carl- 
sen,” she said briefly. “I thought she would.” 

“Well, I didn’t,” confessed Nancy. “I 
thought she’d jump at our family. Mother! 
The Golden Girl was just lonesome all the 
time, when we thought her disagreeable. I 
didn’t half understand her.” 

“If you are going to write stories — or do 
anything else successfully, for that matter — 
you will have to learn to understand people,” 
said Tante smiling. “It is a great part of 
Imagination. Fairy Stories are only another 
small part, Nancy.” 


CHAPTER XXIII 


A BEGINNING 

O NE beautiful blue day early in Sep- 
tember, several persons stood on the 
pier at Old Harbor watching the little 
steamer move away. It was bearing the larger 
part of the summer colony back to their 
winter homes, leaving but a few to wave them 
a good-bye. But this was not a sad occasion, 
not the regretful ending of anything. Instead 
it was but the happy beginning of something 
still better; which is what all so-called ^‘end- 
ings’’ ought to be. 

Nelly Sackett and Anne Carlsen stood on 
the pier close together, waving their handker- 
chiefs to the group gathered on the upper 
deck of the boat, where Anne had stood alone 
that June day weeks ago, so helpless and un- 
happy. Down below, Cap’n Sackett in his 

306 


A BEGINNING 


307 


dory was waiting to row the two girls back 
to the Cove and Aunt Polly. 

For this is what Xante and the Captain had 
agreed between them, after a long consulta- 
tion and much thinking. Nelly and Anne 
were both to spend the winter in the city, 
where they could go to school with Nancy 
and plan the next step in the work each most 
wanted to do. They were to live in the big 
Batchelder home, almost as if they were a 
part of that hospitable family. 

And already Round Robin had planned a 
grand reunion for the holidays. Instead of 
Anne’s going to visit Beverly in the south, 
Beverly herself had promised to come to Bos- 
ton. Norma would find it very easy to come 
on from New York; and Victor too, for a 
few days at least. Gilda was already a neigh- 
bor of the Batchelders in a happy suburban 
home. Cicely would have to be represented 
by a letter from across the sea; and Dick by 
another from his school across the great west- 
ern plains. But East, West, North, and South 
would be together in spirit at least on Christ- 
mas Day, looking forward to another summer. 


308 


ROUND ROBIN 


Meanwhile, the Captain could not spare his 
two girls just yet, he said; even if it meant 
beginning school a few weeks late. This de- 
lay would give them all time to make certain 
readjustments and arrangements. And it 
would give Anne a chance to see her country 
home in its most beautiful days, when the 
leaves had turned and the grass would be 
rusty-brown, and the wild cranberries ripe in 
the high bogs along the dunes. For it is not 
until the summer “transients” have gone away 
that the wild country puts on its choicest 
beauty, and its gaudiest colors; when the 
ocean plays its grandest games for the benefit 
of its own people, the sea-lovers w^ho linger 
beside the great deep and are loth to go away. 

“I am glad I am not on that boat now!” 
Anne confided to Nelly’s ear. “Just think 
how hot and stuffy it will seem in the city 
when they wake up to-morrow morning! But 
we shall still be breathing this sweet, spicy air, 
and looking at this blue water!” 

“It’s pretty here in the winter, too,” said 
Nelly. “Sometime we must invite the Round 
Robin here for the holidays; some day when 


A BEGINNING 


309 


you and I have made our fortunes, and have 
turned our old house into a wonderful steam- 
heated, electric-lighted, summer-and-winter 
home. Won’t that be fun?” 

^‘We’ll do it!” cried Anne, with a firm nod 
of her head — like her grandfather’s — that 
meant business. 

^^Heia! Hoia!” shouted the girls on the 
steamer, as the engine bell rang. “Good-bye, 
Nelly! Good-bye, Anne! See you soon! To- 
gether! Round Robin!” 

“Heia! Hoia!” answered the cousins on 
the pier. “We’ll bring you all a branch of 
trailing yew and a cedar tree from Round 
Robin when we come down.” 

“And a bunch of fresh catnip for Patsy, 
and some ripe cranberries! Together! Round 
Robin!” 

The people lingering on the pier grinned 
good-naturedly at the two girls as they climbed 
down into the Captain’s boat, when the 
steamer was out of sight. Whatever belonged 
to the Captain they accepted without question. 

“Ye’re havin’ two little lassies now instead 
of the one, ain’t ye, Cap’n?” chuckled Lonny 


310 


ROUND ROBIN 


Maguire, leaning over the railing for the cus- 
tomary parting shots between him and his 
neighbor. 

^Wal, I dunno!” said the Captain with a 
twinkle. “Accordin’ to ’rithmetic, two gals 
for half a year ought to be about the same as 
one gal for a whole year. Ain’t that so?” 
Lonny retired with a guffaw, to spread this 
joke abroad. 

“Two girls for always, Grandfather!” Anne 
corrected him. “Wherever we are, even if it 
is far from here, it’s home by the sea where 
you are.” 

“Yes,” said Nelly, taking an oar and hand- 
ing another to Anne, “wherever we are, wc 
shall be in one boat, pulling Together!'^ 


THE END 


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